


Where Angels Fear to Tread

by cavlarycaptain



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1960s, Alternate Universe - Beat Generation, Billy likes Truman Capote, F/M, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Nancy likes Jonathan, Period Typical Attitudes, Period-Typical Sexism, Recreational Drug Use, Steve likes Frank Sintara
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-03
Updated: 2020-01-13
Packaged: 2020-04-07 08:59:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 22,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19081780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cavlarycaptain/pseuds/cavlarycaptain
Summary: When Steve Harrington first saw Billy Hargrove, he took his breath away; though that could have just been the Newport cigarette in his own hand.orA 1960s au where Steve Harrington tries to figure out the mystery that is Billy Hargrove.





	1. Chapter One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So a movie that I absolutely loved to watch while at uni was Kill Your Darlings, and despite being extremely inaccurate, I loved the aesthetic of it and Dane DeHaan's performance in it. Anyways, I was watching it again recently and just really wanted to see Billy and Steve in that said aesthetic so I attempted this.
> 
> Title taken from [Fools Rush In](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y25EmjCmweo) by Frank Sinatra

“Isn’t she beautiful?” Nancy asks, a shimmer in her eyes as she takes in the Connie Francis vinyl in her hands. Steve peeks up from the records he’s been shuffling through to see what she’s talking about. 

“She sure is,” Steve says after letting out a whistle, “The girl on the cover isn’t half bad either.” Steve says with a smile. Nancy rolls her eyes which prompts Steve to let out a light laugh, he loves getting under her skin. 

“I can not stand you, Steve Harrington.” She says as she continues to look through the vinyl records in front of her. She holds up a seven inch single that reads, _Elvis Presley: Jailhouse Rock_. Steve sees what she’s holding in her hand and lets out an audible sound of disdain mixed with disgust.

“What’s wrong, Steve?” Nancy asks as she puts the record down and continues to filter through the records in front of her. “ Don’t like Elvis?” She smirks, already knowing the answer, never missing out on the opportunity to push Steve’s buttons. 

 “You know I don’t Nancy,” Steve says as he leans against the wall behind him, crossing his arms in front of him. 

 “Oh yeah? Why’s that?” Nancy asks with a teasing smile. “Can’t stand the fact that Elvis is more of a dreamboat than you?” 

 “Him being a dreamboat doesn’t distract _me_ from the fact he’s made a career out of hiccuping out his words and biting off other artists.” Steve says while rolling his eyes. “I just don’t understand why everyone is so taken by Elvis when Frank Sinatra exists.” 

 “Oh here we go again,” Nancy says as she begins to move the cashier’s counter. “Frank Sinatra this, Dean Martin that. Is it so hard for you to just like something everyone else _our_ age does?” She sets the records down on the counter and gives the clerk a smile. 

 “Hi Jonathan.” Jonathan mirrors Nancy’s smile, but there’s an apparent amount of timidness behind it. He begins to ring up the vinyl records when he’s unwillingly pulled in to the conversation. 

 “You know what, let’s ask Jonathan.” Steve says, hopping up onto the counter as Nancy begins to pull out her wallet. “Tell me Johnny boy, who do you think is better? The talented, charming, charismatic Frank Sinatra, or” Steve lets out an overdramatic sigh and rolls his eyes, “Elvis Presley.” 

 “Well, I, uh,” He stammers, not expecting to be put on the spot. He eventually gets his words out, saying, “I’m more of a Buddy Holly fan myself; Elvis made a career of biting from other artists.” Steve grins at him. 

“Well look at Johnny boy, throwing us a curve ball.” Steve says, jumping off the counter and resting his arm on Nancy’s shoulder. “Did ya hear that Nance? I’m not the only one who knows that Elvis is a thief.” 

 “Why don’t you wait for me outside Steven?” Nancy says, shrugging his arm off of her shoulder. “Unless you’re planning on buying something.” She says, knowing full well he doesn’t. 

 “And I will see you outside; bye Johnny boy,” He winks at Jonathan and heads outside. He leans against the brick wall, putting his hands in his pocket and pulls out a cigarette. He cups his hand around the end of it, lights it up and takes a drag.

 “Oh no, see that’s where you’re wrong, Hargrove.” He hears a voice come from the alleyway next to him. He peers down the alley, seeing one guy gesturing aggressively with his hands while the guy stood opposite him looks on unimpressed and well, quite bored. Steve turns back around and listens in on the conversation, entertained.

 “Hemingway? Boring? We both took McMillian’s lecture last semester so I know you read the _Old Man and the Sea;_ you’re still going to sit here and tell me you found Hemingway, _boring_?” 

 “Yes, the man could write Luckerby,” Hargrove says, leaning against the brick wall behind him and brings his cigarette to his mouth to inhale. “But that doesn’t make him _interesting_.” 

“Figured you of all people would find a sad lonely alcoholic very interesting, or, at least share some type of kinship with him.” Luckerby says, smirking when Hargrove rolls his eyes and sticks up his middle finger. 

“Can’t help it Luckerby, Capote is a man after my own heart, someone who knows how to tell a story and is very _interesting_ ” Billy says, a sly smile gracing his face. 

“Old Man and the Sea doesn’t tickle your fancy, but Breakfast at Tiffany’s will,” Luckerby says, throwing his cigarette on the ground and stomping it out. “You’re an odd one, Billy. Do gotta admit that Audrey Hepburn is nice to look at."

“George Peppard ain’t half bad himself.” Hargrove, no, Billy, then throws his cigarette on the ground, stomping his out as well and shoves his hands his leather jacket pockets. “Now come on, let's go get blitzed, my fancy isn’t the only thing I want tickled tonight.” 

“You gotta way with words, you know that Hargrove?” Luckerby says, “I’ve gotta go by the dorm and grab a couple of things before we head out for the night, you coming?” 

Billy shakes his head,  “Nah, I think I’ll start the night a little early if you know what I mean,” Hargrove says as he begins to walk the opposite direction of Luckerby. “I’ll see you in about an hour” 

“God help the poor bartender that gets stuck serving you.”  

“They should consider themselves so lucky.” Billy says and then begins walking closer to where Steve is standing, back still against the brick wall like he wasn’t just eavesdropping. Billy begins to whistle a tune that Steve has heard before but he can’t place it.  Billy walks by Steve, not giving him a second glance but Steve finally catches a good luck of Billy and, well, Billy takes his breath away; though, that could just be the Newport in his hand.

\---- 

Later that night, Steve is sitting on Nancy’s bed in her apartment as she continues to decorate her newly moved in space. School will be starting back up again in just a few weeks for the fall semester and everything needs to be “just perfect” according to Nancy. She won’t have time to deal with all the nooks and crannies while she’s dealing with Professor Carlyle’s syllabus. 

 “Don't flip your wig,” Steve tells Nancy, watching her put up a film poster of _The Man Who Knew Too Much_. “Carlyle's class probably isn't even that difficult.” 

 “Samford took her Introduction to Chemistry class,” Nancy says, putting the tape back on her desk, “Twice.”

“Oh Nance,” Steve says. Jerry Samford was someone they both went to high school with and was, by far, one of the smartest people they knew. He probably would have made a great valedictorian speech if had bothered to show up to graduation. “Is it too late to transfer out?” 

Nancy sighs and shuffles through her records, pulling one out of its sleeve and putting on the turntable. “She’s the only one that teaches this class and I can’t afford to push off this class any longer.” 

“Who knows, maybe Johnny boy can help you study,” Steve says, raising an eyebrow.“I’m sure he would be really good at helping you with chemistry.”  
  
“Just what are you implying, Steve Harrington?” Nancy says, crossing her arms.

“Nothing, nothing,” Steve says raising his arms, “Just heard from a friend of a friend that he might have the slightest bit of a crush on you.”

“Nice try Steve, you don’t have any friends but me.” Nancy says, setting the stylus on the record, letting the warm sound of vinyl feel the room.

“You wound me Nance,” Steve grabs his heart in mock hurt and Nancy just rolls her eyes and continues decorating her apartment. Steve listens to the song recognizing the tune; it’s the one that Billy was whistling earlier. 

“Hey Nance, what’s playing right now?” 

“Can’t Help Falling In Love by Mr. Elvis Presley.” 

Hm. Maybe Steve could learn to like Elvis after all. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I used to write in first person and I'm still trying to get a good grasp on third person so please let me know what you think. I'm really excited to start this one and would love love feedback!
> 
> I'm shit at making moodboards, so here's some concepts for the characters:
> 
> Steve likes: Frank Sinatra on vinyl, The Beach Boys, James Dean, Gene Kelly films and burgundy cardigans  
> Billy likes: Chuck Berry, Ricky Nelson , Truman Capote, Marlboro Cigarettes and the rockabilly style  
> Nancy likes: Connie Francis, Doris Day, Breakfast at Tiffany’s, Shirley Temples with extra grenadine and baby pink hair bows  
> Jonathan likes: Buddy Holly, Allen Ginsberg, Alfred Hitchcock films, A Streetcar Named Desire and argyle sweater vests


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve's got a friend named Henry Weaving, and well, Henry's a lot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you find yourself confused by any of the terminology being used, please check out [this](https://fiftiesweb.com/pop/1960s-slang/) nifty link. It's where I'm primarily getting a lot of the slang for this story.
> 
> also spoilers for Alfred Hitchcock's "Psycho"

“I just don’t know how you drink the stuff.” Steve says, frowning at Nancy’s cup of coffee in front of her. She rolls her eyes and takes a long sip, refusing to break eye contact with Steve, just to watch him squirm. Steve grabs his stomach and pretends to gag. “Absolutely disgusting.” Steve says, shaking his head. 

“Are we still talking about coffee or your taste in men?” Nancy says, setting her cup back on the table and dabbing her mouth with a napkin. Steve’s eyes widen and he puts his hands up in defense. 

“I thought that shit was supposed to make you less cranky? What’s your bag?” Steve says, reaching for a piece of bacon on Nancy’s plate; it’s not like she’s going to eat it anyways.

 “I saw Randy leaving your apartment building this morning.” Nancy retorts, a manicured eyebrow cocked up. Steve goes to reach for another piece of bacon and Nancy slaps his hand away. “Want to tell me about that?” Steve sits back against the booth and lets out a sigh.

 “Just looking for a fun time you know,” Steve says shrugging, pushing his eggs around with his fork. “He was around, I was bored.” 

 “Yeah, but it’s” Nancy crinkles her nose, now it’s her turn to look disgusted, “Randy. Isn’t he a bit of a scuzz?” Steve rolls his eyes and drops his fork on his plate, hearing it clink against the china.  

“This coming from the girl that went on not one, not two, but three dates with Scott Trimbley?” Steve says, smiling when he sees Nancy’s eyes widen. 

“So the semester starts tomorrow,” Nancy says, deciding to change the subject. “Are you ready for Nelson’s lecture? I’ve heard it’s paper after paper in that class.” Nancy says, pulling out her wallet and paying for both of their meals. 

Steve grabs his coat and helps Nancy put on hers, slyly replacing her $5 bill with his own and putting Nancy’s back in her coat pocket. “I’m not too concerned.” Steve says, smiling at their waitress as they head towards the door. “ Nelson’s difficult but Henry said he’s a great professor. Doesn’t only teach you about literature, but about life, blah blah blah; sounds a bit like a dove but he shouldn’t be too difficult.”  

“Wish I could say the same,” Nancy sighs, putting her hands her in coat pocket and feeling her five dollar bill, “Steve Harrington one day you _will_ let me treat you to a meal.”  

“She reads the Feminine Mystique once,” Steve says, jokingly. “Alright Betty, next time we grab breakfast together, _you_ will treat, and _I’ll_ be sure to order extra bacon.” 

“You’re such a nuisance, Steve.”   
  
“Yes, but I’m _your_ nuisance, Nance.”

————

“So she asks me if I want to bail and go back to her place, so we can talk things out you know, and I’m just like, Amy, baby, can we at least finish the movie?” Henry says, telling Steve about his Saturday night. “She looks at me like I’m bent and says, “It’s either the movie or me” so nowI’m left with this difficult decision.”  

Today is the official start of the fall semester and even though he’d never admit it, knowing that he’s going to be hearing a classic Henry Weaving story is the only thing that makes Steve want to get out of bed on a Monday morning.   
  
“So, what’d you pick?” Steve asks, holding in his laughter. Henry had been dating Amy a whole two weeks before things went awry, a new personal best.

“Let’s just say I’m single and Norman Bates’ was his own serial killing mother the whole time.” Henry says and Steve lets out a boisterous laugh. “I don’t know what she expected from dating a film studies major but it clearly wasn’t what she wanted.”Henry says, shrugging his shoulders; he’ll be on to a new girl within the next week.  

“Oh Henry, I swear at this point you’re better off dating Alfred Hitchcock himself.” Steve says, patting Henry on the shoulder. “Don’t fret it man, Amy always seemed like an all show and no go. You were too good for her anyways.”  

“Oh Stevie you flatter me so,” Henry says smiling and looking down at his watch. “Oh shit, I’ve gotta bail, lecture started five minutes ago.” Henry pulls his on his backpack, sends Steve a two finger a salute and grabs his skateboard as he starts a light jog to his class.

 “You know I hear those things are for riding.”Steve says, referencing the skateboard that Henry’s carrying.

“Bold of you to think I know how to ride it.” Henry yells back to Steve. Steve lets out a light chuckle and rolls his eyes; only Henry Weaving. 

 ——

 The first day of classes is starting to die down and Steve is currently sitting on the steps of the Low Memorial Library, a Newport between his fingers and whistling the tune of “God Only Knows” by the Beach Boys. He’s got about a twenty minute wait before the transit shows up so he’s taking in the horizon in front of him.  

“Is that Brian Wilson?” Steve hears a deep voice come from behind him and turns around to see, Hargrove, no, Billy standing behind him. He’s leaning against a pillar, an unlit cigarette twirling between his fingers. “It’s a good tune, guy really knows how to write.” 

Steve never really got a solid look at Billy when he walked by him outside the record shop but now that he’s got a good look at him, Steve doesn’t want to stop looking at him. His dirty blond hair styled in an elaborate coif, manicured eyebrows resting above his eyes; eyes that are kin to that of a blue jay.

“Uh yeah,” Steve stutters out, “He does. You like the Beach Boys?”Steve does a quick up and down at Billy’s outfit and he’s got to admit the leather jacket, cuffed blue jeans and red bandana sticking out of his pocket doesn’t scream “surf rock fan”.

“Pet Sounds is a good album” Billy shrugs, “Listened to it a lot when I visited my mom in California last summer. You got a light?” Billy sticks out his cigarette and Steve pulls out his lighter. He cups his hand over the end of Billy’s cigarette and waits for the flame to ignite. 

“Thanks,” Billy puts the cigarette in his mouth and puts his hand out causing Steve to look up at him, “Billy Hargrove.” 

 Steve grabs and shakes his hand, “Steve Harrington.” 

 Billy smirks, “Apt name I’d say. Quite a quiff going on up there huh?” Steve reaches up to his hair his on instinct but relaxes with Billy lets out a light laugh. “I think I’ve seen you around that record store near campus, uh, The Turning Point. That place any good?” 

“Oh yeah, got a friend who works there, they’ve got a big collection” Steve says, thoughts of Billy whistling Elvis Presley at the front of his mind. “Got a lot of Elvis records ” Steve says, wondering if that’s what Billy wants to hear. 

Billy rolls his eyes, “No thanks, not really my speed. Don’t see why all the girls go apeshit over him. All the guy does is bite off of other artists."  Billy says. “More of a Chuck Berry man myself, but Ricky Nelson’s not too bad either.”

“Hargrove!” Billy and Steve both look up and see that there’s a cherry red Ford Mustang sitting on the road in front of them. Billy’s friend, Luckerby, in the front seat, two girls sitting in the back. “Come on,” Luckerby yells, “We’re gonna go get blitzed.” 

“Looks like that’s my cue,” Billy says as he throws his cigarette on the ground and stomps it out, “Nice meeting you Steve Harrington.”

“Same to you, Billy.” Steve says but he’s sure Billy’s out of ear shot by the time he finally responds.  

Much like the first time he saw him, Billy Hargrove has taken his breath away. However, this time Steve knows it isn’t the Newport in his hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the feedback on the first chapter!
> 
> I'm not too sure how I feel about this chapter, but right now I like it as is, though I may go back and edit if I feel necessary. If you know a lot about 60s pop culture and see any discrepancies, please let me know, I'm trying to make this as accurate as possible. Comments would greatly be appreciated again.
> 
> Overall, I hope you're enjoying it so far!


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Henry's back, and shocker, he's in love.

“You know, he’s got a point,” Doug says, staring blankly into space as he hands Steve the joint in between his fingers, “The best things in life _are_ free.” They’re currently laying on Steve’s living room floor and listening to a Sam Cooke record. Steve had first met Douglas Wiley during their British Literature lecture sophomore year and they probably haven’t a sober conversation since.

“Then why did we pay for this weed?” Steve asks, exhaling. Doug might be a bad influence but goddamn it he’s a good time. 

Doug pauses and looks at Steve, his green eyes bloodshot. “Well shit.” Steve lets out a laugh and hands the joint back to Doug. Steve sits up from the floor and shuffles through his record collection, looking for something new to play. “You got any Elvis?”

“Fuck off Doug,” Steve says, letting out a sigh as he realizes he’s been looking at the same record sleeve for the last 20 seconds. He keeps shuffling through, thinking about taking another trip to see Jonathan at the Turning Point, until he eventually decides on a Paul Anka album. He also makes sure the vanilla candle that they've been burning to cover the smell of weed is still aflame.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Doug says, putting up his arms in defense. “What did Elvis ever do to you?”

“We’re not having this conversation again Doug.” Steve says as he lays on his sofa, taking the joint from Doug. 

“You get so cranky when you’re gassed, Harrington.” Doug says, a small frown setting on his face. Steve rolls his eyes and hands the joint back to Doug when he sees Doug’s outstretched hand. 

“And you become a scrounge but I still invite you over don’t I?” Steve says, seeing Doug finish off the joint, not surprised in the slightest.

“Okay, you’ve got a point,” Doug says, struggling to get off the floor. He walks into Steve’s kitchen, taking his time as he looks for a glass when Steve’s door is thrown open. Henry Weaving is standing in Steve’s doorway, leather jacket askew, shirt completely gone, belt not buckled and lipstick smudged all over his mouth.

 “Stevie, it’s happened!” He pulls Steve off of his couch and grabs him into a hug.“I’m in love, Stevie!” 

“God you smell like a brewery,” Steve says when Henry finally lets go of him. He sits back on his couch and rubs his eyes, “Henry, it’s literally been five days since you and Amy called it quits. Don’t you need time to, I don’t know, grieve? You were dating her for two weeks, that’s pretty serious for you.”  
  
“Ha ha, you’re a comedian Harrington” Henry says, rolling his eyes, “Amy might have dumped me on Saturday but we had already been emotionally distant long before then.”  
  
“Two weeks Henry.”  
  
“Anyways, her name is Veronica,” Henry says excitedly, walking to Steve’s refrigerator and grabbing a beer, chugging half of it right on the spot. “She’s a senior here at Columbia, she’s a creative writing major, she’s a total babe and I’m pretty sure she’s the love of my life.” 

“Veronica Richards?” Doug interjects, “The one with the,” He raises his eyebrows up and cups his hands in front of his chest.

“Oh my god Doug,” Steve says, shaking his head.“I know it’s hard for you sometimes but could you try to have _some_ decency.”

“I don’t need to take this, I’m going to the bathroom,” Doug says, as Steve glances over at Henry.

“He’s wired.” Steve tells Henry in response to the confused look he gives him. “Invited him over to smoke and he pretty much smoked the whole damn thing himself.”

Henry shakes his head as if he’s trying to clear his thoughts and grabs Steve by the arms, looking directly into his eyes. “Steve! We’re getting off track, we gotta talk about Veronica, man. She’s the,” 

“The love of your life, yes, yes I know, but _why,_ Henry.” Steve says, grabbing Henry by the shoulders to settle him down. “What is it about Veronica Richards that makes you so sure that you’re in love?”

“I, I don’t know man, but I know it’s something!” Henry says, jumping up from his seat, “I was at Jameson’s party right, we’re all dancing, having a good time and then all of the sudden, this girl bumps into me and my drink spills all over me.”

“Oh true romance, how all the great love stories start,” Steve says with a hand over his heart and a mock love lorn look on his face.

“Anyways,” Henry continues as he rolls his eyes, “I’m a little loaded at this point already so I’m not mad but then I get a look at the girl and think, “How could I be mad at a girl that looks like this” and so she starts apologizing, talking about how she feels bad about it and takes me to the upstairs bathroom so she can clean my shirt. Next thing I know we’re making out against the wall of Jameson’s bathroom and then we started, talking? She tells me that she likes movies and Alfred Hitchcock and I almost got down on one knee right there.”

“Without a ring? Henry, you’re becoming a longhair right before my very eyes.” Steve says, blocking Henry’s playful punch.

“Stevie, I know I just met her and I know it sounds crazy, but, I think we’re soulmates.” 

“You know what Henry, you’re absolutely right.” Steve says, picking up Henry’s empty beer can off of the coffee table and putting it in the trash. “It does sound crazy.”

“Stevie, baby, you hurt me so,” Henry says, hand over his heart, “She told me to ring her up tomorrow morning.” Henry’s beaming and while Steve wants to continue this banter, he can’t help but feel happy for the guy.

“Well look at you, we might just make a steady guy out of you yet, Henry Weaving,” Steve says and then smiles back at Henry.

——— 

“Johnny boy, what have you got for me this week?” Steve says as he walks into the Turning Point and sees Jonathan working behind the counter, placing records on a shelf. Jonathan turns around and greets Steve with a smile.

 “Hey Steve, we’ve got some Dean Martin, Dion, The Beatles, Bobby Day,” Jonathan says, eyes looking up as if he’s going through the inventory in his head. Steve smiles at Johnny, and thanks him as he walks over the shelves.

“Oh you got the new Connie Francis, Nancy will love this,” Steve sneaks a glance at Jonathan and sees him start to turn beet red. “You should show it to her the next time she comes in.”

“Uh, yeah, I’ll, uh, I’ll be sure to do that.” Jonathan says as he continues to put up records in front of him, refusing to make eye contact with Steve.

“You know,” Steve heads over to the counter, leans against it and says, “I heard from a friend of a friend that Nancy might have the tiniest crush on you.” Steve stifles a laughter when Jonathan drops the records in his hands.

“You must be mistaken,” Jonathan says, picking the record up off of the ground, “Doesn’t Nancy always say she’s your only friend?”

Steve’s about to respond when the door to the shop opens, ringing the bell above it and he hears his name called. “Is that you Harrington?” Steve turns around and sees Billy Hargrove standing there, cigarette hanging out of his mouth, leather jacket thrown over his shoulder.

“Hey, Hargrove” Steve says, still somehow thrown by how breathtaking Billy always manages to look. “Nice to see you trust my judgement.” Steve says, trying to ease the anxiety he’s starting to feel brought on by having a conversation with _the_ Billy Hargrove.

 “Don’t get too cocky just, I still haven’t even seen their collection.” Billy says, then playfully winks at Steve. Steve can practically feel the rose colored hue that’s spreading across his face. “Anyways, I was just trying to see where this place was and saw you through the window, thought I would be polite and say hello. I got loaded last night and spent all of my money on beer.” Billy turns to head back out, but not before shooting Steve a glance. “Who knows, maybe I’ll see you in here again Harrington.”

 Much like the first time Steve saw him, Billy’s gone without so much of a second glance.

“Who was that?” Jonathan asks him, stunned by the fact Steve’s been so silent for so long following this guys departure.

“You know, I’m still trying to figure that out myself.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the feedback so far! Please continue to let me know what you think!  
> Also sorry there's so much Henry already; I wanted to give Steve a friend besides Nancy to always talk to and figured I should lay a good foundation for him. Not gonna lie, he's starting to become my favorite OC to write for hahah.


	4. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I guess you could say Steve's always liked the company.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm sure you've all noticed, but I've changed the title! I prefer this much more to the former, the last one felt like an incomplete phrase and weird for a story title. Title still comes from [Fools Rush In](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y25EmjCmweo) by Frank Sinatra, a song I highly recommend.

“Dance with me Nance,” Steve says, spinning around to Nancy, outstretching his arm. “Come on, it’s myFrank Sinatra favorite song.” While not technically true, all Frank Sinatra songs sounded the same to Nancy so she wouldn’t know the difference.

“Steve Harrington if you don’t let me study for this exam tomorrow I will walk right out of your apartment and not look back.” Nancy was currently stressing over her exam tomorrow, her pencil alternatively being chewed on or tapped against her chin. “I told you that I would come over to keep you company as long as you _don’t_ distract me.”

A smart retort is on the tip of Steve’s tongue, but he realizes that Nancy _is_ doing the nice thing and keeping him company. While Steve would never admit it to himself, Steve hates the feeling of being alone. No, that’s not quite true, he hates the feeling of loneliness. 

“But Nancy,” Steve whines, cutting himself off when Nancy’s head snaps up, eyes glaring at Steve.

“Don’t “Nancy” me, Steven,” Nancy says, grabbing her messenger bag and shuffling through it. “I have my first exam in Carlyle’s class and I’m already stressed out enough knowing that she hates me.” She eventually pulls out an eraser, throwing it back into her bag when she realizes she’s grabbed the wrong thing.

“Nancy she does not hate you,” Steve says as he sits down opposite Nancy. “It’s been like three weeks, you’ve only seen her like three times,” Steve says trying to lighten the mood, but he takes on a more somber demeanor when he sees Nancy is slowing becoming more stressed. 

“Nancy, I know this is weird, but I’m about to be serious for a second,” Steve says, putting his hand on Nancy’s to help calm her nerves, “You, Nancy Wheeler, are the smartest person I’ve ever known; and we know Jerry Samford.” Steve says and Nancy’s face is graced with a small smile. “Carlyle’s class is a total bummer, but if anyone can ace that class, it’s you Nancy Wheeler.”  

Nancy pulls her hands from under Steve’s and wipes away the tears that are starting to form in the corner of her eyes, “Damn it, Steve, you always know just what to say.” She jokes, letting out a light laugh and Steve smiles back at her.

“Well thanks Nance, it’s one of my many talents.” Steve says, leaning agains the couch behind him.

“Many?” Nancy asks, raising one of her eyebrows. Steve’s about to respond when his apartment door is opened. He really should think about locking it at some point. In the doorway stands Randy Erickson,  or resident scuzzbucket, as Nancy likes to call him. 

“Oh, Randy, didn’t think I’d be seeing you so soon,” Steve says, standing up and glancing at Nancy.“I’ve got company at the moment so,”

“I don’t mind if you don’t.” Randy’s quick to say, cutting Steve off. He winks at Nancy and she lets out an audible scoff.

“Well I do,” Nancy says, “We’re in the middle of studying Randy, so if you would be so kind to leave.” Nancy stares Randy down, waiting until he backs down. Randy realizes that Nancy doesn’t plan to leave any time soon and sighs in defeat.

“Whatever man,” Randy says as he begins to leave Steve’s apartment. “Call me when we have less of a,” Randy looks Nancy up and down. “distraction.” Steve closes the door behind him and he can already hear Nancy’s impending lecture.

“I know, I know,” Steve says, preemptively turning around to see Nancy with her arms across her chest. Has Steve mentioned just how much Nancy hates Randy Erickson?

“Scuzz. Bucket.” Nancy says. Steve lets out a sigh, resining to the fact that Nancy’s right. “Why do you even give him the time of day Steve?” Nancy asks, sympathetically.

Steve smiles sadly, “I guess you could say that I just like the company.”

——

“Ronnie and I aren’t doing too hot right now.” Henry says before wiping his mouth with his napkin. Steve lets out a light chuckle as he squirts ketchup on to his plate, not touching his fries.

“You know I hear people that do that have commitment issues.” Henry says, eyes focused on Steve’s plate. “How are you gonna commit to a relationship if you can’t commit to ketchup on your fries?” Henry asks Steve as he precedes to steal one of his fries.

“Am I actually being given commitment lessons by _the_ Henry Weaving himself?” Steve jokes, smacking Henry’s hand away when he reaches for another fry. He understands why Nancy does it to him so much. “Why are you and Veronica already on the rocks, it’s been like a week.”

“So we’re in bed, right,” Henry starts.

“And we’re in public, so please, read a room Henry.” Steve says, eyes glancing around to make sure no one’s listening in.

“Take it easy, we were just, talking.”

“Oh, now I see what the problem is.” Steve says, dodging Henry’s dirty napkin that Henry’s aimed at his head.

“Do you want to know about what happened or not?” Henry says, continuing when Steve motions for him to do so. “So we’re sitting there, talking, and all of the sudden she talks about me meeting her parents.” Steve nearly chokes on his sip of Coke.

“Damn Henry, you _do_ move fast.” Steve says and Henry rolls his eyes.

“Jerry Lewis wishes he was half the comedian you are, Harrington. Anyways, she starts going apeshit, talking about how her biological clock is ticking; and you know Stevie, I know I slept through most of Carter’s Bio lecture, but I can’t help but feeling like that’s not true.” Henry says. “She’s saying that she’s almost done with school and that’s she gotta find a husband soon and all of the sudden she’s looking at me like she’s waiting for me to get down on one knee.” 

“That’s so funny, because I swear the night you barged into my apartment about how in love you were with her, you thought she was the love of your life and you were going to do that exact thing.” Steve teases. “How did you react?”

“I was speechless, believe it or not.” Henry says, “Apparently she takes my silence as rejection and starts going on about how maybe I’m _not_ husband material.”

“Ouch,” Steve says while wincing. “What did you say to that?”

“That maybe I’m not!” Henry says in an outburst. The people in the booth start staring and Henry quiets down. “Which, apparently, she didn’t want to hear so now she’s giving me the silent treatment.” Henry says while sighing and leaning back into his seat. Steve can’t help but feel a little bad for a guy. Henry might be a loose cannon but he’s also one of the best guys he’s ever known.

“You know what, you and me, Friday night, we’re getting blitzed.” Steve says, finishing off his burger. “We’ll leave people like Veronica Richards and Randy Erickson in the past.” Henry’s eyes widen at that.

“Randy Erickson? Since when was he back in the picture?”Henry asks. Steve’s about to tell Henry not to worry about it when he sees Billy Hargrove walk in.

Billy goes up to the counter, grabbing a to-go order and winks at the cashier, an elderly woman who playfully rolls her eyes and shoos him away.

Steve thinks this is going to be yet anotherclassic Billy Hargrove encounter, one were Billy’s there for a fleeting second and the next he’s not. Surprisingly, as Billy’s putting his sunglasses on, set to leave, he sees Steve Harrington out of his peripheral.

“Harrington, you would think we’re pals by now by how much we’ve seen each other in this big city.” Billy says, walking over to Steve’s booth. “Oh hey Weaving,” Billy says when he looks at Henry, shaking his hand. “I didn’t know you two knew each other.” Billy says looking between Henry and Steve.

“Was just about to say the same thing.” Henry says, looking at Steve perplexed.

“We bonded over Brian Wilson didn’t we, Harrington?” Billy asks, smiling and shooting Steve a wink. Steve does everything in his power to not think about the rose tinted hue that’s most likely spreading across his face. “Anyways, I’ve got to be going, Luckerby isn’t gonna wait all day.”

“See you later Weaving, you too Harrington.” Billy says, putting his sunglasses on and walking out of the diner. Henry stares at Steve, watching on as Steve stares at Billy. When Billy’s finally out of his sights, he mentally joins Henry back at their booth. Henry’s smiling.

“What?” Steve asks him.

“Something tells me that Randy Erickson won’t be in the picture for much longer.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I PROMISE Steve and Billy are going to be interacting more frequently soon. This is becoming more slow burn than I expected but they will be interacting soon, promise! 
> 
> Do you think things are overly descriptive? My last semester of university I took a screenwriting class and so I got used to describing things for screenplays and I'm hoping it doesn't hinder this storytelling. 
> 
> Also, I've just now figured out that I can see my statistics for stories because I'm an old woman apparently, but I'm now able to see how many of you are bookmarking and subscribing and I just want to say thank you so much! This is my first chaptered story I've written in four years and my first on this website so that means so much!


	5. Chapter Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “It sure was, and you know what I said about Griffin Riley.” Henry says as he starts to be lead out of the bar by Heather, no Holly. “If he says it,” 
> 
> “It’s gospel.” Steve finishes.
> 
> “Go with God.” Henry tells him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This wasn't supposed to be 2000 words, but nothing seems to go to plan. 
> 
> If you're confused about any of the terminology, feel free to check out [this](https://fiftiesweb.com//pop/1960s-slang/) link. It's what I've used mostly for this story.

“Well you don’t have to be such a dick, Lionel.” Nancy says, the phone cord winding tighter and tighter around her index finger. She’s red in the face and looks like she’s doing everything to physically keep her composure.

Steve, who’s just walked into her apartment, furrows his eyebrows at Nancy and she puts up one finger, signaling that she’ll be done in a minute. Steve’s used to Nancy’s off color language because it’s normally because it’s directed at him, but never to Lionel Carter, editor of the school newspaper.

“Fine, I’ll write the damn article.” Nancy says before aggressively hanging the phone up. Steve stares at her, wondering if he wants to poke the bear.

“So,” Steve begins.

“Lionel wants me to cover fashion, _again_ , which I’m so tired of doing. I told him that I want write to a piece covering the reoccurring vandalism that’s been happening on campus and he pretty much did everything but laugh at me.” 

Nancy sighs and drops down on to her bed. Steve frowns and sits next to Nancy, pulling her into a hug. “Oh Nance.” He says and Nancy pulls away. “Maybe it’s fashion now, but one day it’ll be the biggest exposé the Times has ever seen.” 

“That’s the thing, Steve.” She says as she stands up and begins to pace around her room. “Why can’t it be the biggest exposé today? Why do I have to resort to doing what Lionel himself has called a “throwaway beat” when I would be just as good covering something that could be a headliner?”

Steve says nothing, knowing Nancy’s questions are rhetorical and continues to let her vent her frustrations.

“I mean, I’m a journalism major for a reason, who’s going to take me seriously if all I’ve written about is how burgundy cardigans don’t substitute for a personality?” Nancy says and that’s when Steve decides to step in. 

“Hey now, what did burgundy cardigans ever do to you?” Steve says, feeling as if his personal aesthetic is under attack. Nancy smiles and rolls her eyes.

 “I swear, I’ve never seen someone wear a burgundy cardigan as well as you,” She says and Steve smiles back at her. “It’s just, I want to be taken seriously and not resorted to a throw away writer just because I’m a woman.”

 Steve was hesitant to say anything about the elephant in the room but it’s hard not to when it’s so obvious. Second wave feminism has been at the forefront for the last few years but it’s hard to ignore the still very obvious tell tale signs of beliefs that are still so common in the workplace.

Steve opens his arms, offering Nancy another hug. She accepts it and he wraps his arms around her. “You’ve just got to keep the faith, Nance. Make Lionel Carter feel like the dip stick he is. Had his very own Barbra Walters in front of him and laughed her off.” 

Nancy pulls away from him and wipes her eyes, but she’s smiling . “Serious Steve isn’t here very often, but I sure am glad when he is.” She says. Steve smiles at her; he doesn’t say it to her enough, but he doesn’t know what he would do without her; the least he can do is be there for her. 

“Now, if we _are_ going to speak of fashion, are we going to acknowledge why you’re all dressed up?” She says while looking over Steve’s outfit. His usual go to cardigan and denim jeans combo has been replaced with a black sweater, red plaid pants and a pair black Chuck Taylor converses.

“Dressed up?” Steve says, playing dumb. “Nance, this is a just a causal ensemble.” 

“Then where’s the burgundy cardigan?”  
  
“I thought we just agreed that burgundy cardigans don’t substitute for personality, yet here you are, confining me to it.” Steve says and the longer he looks at Nancy, the more he realizes she doesn’t plan to drop this.

“Henry and I are gonna go get loaded. He’s having some girl troubles and I told him I know how to remedy that.” Steve says and Nancy narrows her eyes, suspicious.

“You normally never dress up when you go out with Henry,” Nancy begins to says, dragging out the y of Henry’s name. “Are you sure this doesn’t have anything to do with Billy Hargrove?” She says and Steve’s breath catches in his throat.

“How do you know about Billy Har-, Henry.”

“Henry.” They both say at the same time, and Steve rolls his eyes. Henry’s got such a good head on his shoulders but unfortunately that head is always running its mouth.

“Of course, but no, I’m not dressed up to impress Billy Hargrove. Can’t a guy want to look nice for himself?” Steve asks.

“Of course he can, but _you_ don’t.” Nancy says, and Steve chooses to ignore the jab. She has a crush on Jonathan Byers, a guy who wears argyle sweater vests, what does she know? “If it makes you feel any better, I approve of him.”

“Oh really? Thanks mom.” Steve says as he looks at his watch and begins to stand up. He is a little taken aback by Nancy’s approval, from what Steve knows, she hasn’t even met the guy.

“Well, not so much, Billy, but more of approving anything that keeps Randy Erickson out of the picture.” Nancy says and there it is. “Just, take care of yourself, Steve.” Nancy says as she walks Steve out of her apartment.

“Okay mom.” Steve smiles.

——- 

“Well would you look at you, Harrington.” Henry says, whistling. “Looking just like a regular Ken doll.” Henry says, pulling out his cigarette carton and offering one to Steve.

“Oh don’t you start. I’ve already been given the third degree by Nancy, because someone couldn’t keep their mouth shut.” Steve says, waiting for Henry to light his cigarette. Henry pulls the lighter away from Steve’s face and holds up his hands in defense.

“We had to find something to talk about in Jennings’ lecture.” Henry says as he and Steve begin walking towards the bar. “Just told her that you might be fancying someone new for the first time in a while. Don’t know why she didn’t know in the first place, isn’t she your best friend? Rude to keep something like that from your best friend Steve.” Henry says, trying to save face and pushing the blame on to Steve.

“Because there’s nothing to know, Henry. Billy Hargrove is choice, yeah, but that’s about all I know about the guy. Not just gonna go after a guy because he’s easy on the eyes.”  
  
“Yeah, because the reason you keep Randy Erickson around is because of his dazzling personality.” Henry says and he’s got him there.

“Just, look out for yourself Steve.” Henry says. “Hargrove, he’s a fun guy, but from what I’ve heard, he’s not the kind to commit.”

“I’m guessing he also doesn’t put ketchup all over his fries.” Steve says, pulling his jacket closer to him as he and Henry walk towards the line to get in to the bar.

“Look, you know who told me that ketchup line? Griffin Riley, and if Griffin Riley says it, it’s gospel.” Henry says as he searches his pockets for his ID. “I swear that guy sleeps with his third eye open.” Steve shakes his head and shows his ID to the bouncer.

The bouncer gives him a once over and lets him in. Henry’s not too far behind him and they both make their way through the front door crowd, “Louie, Louie” by the Kingsmen blasting through the bar.

“Come on.” Steve says, dragging Henry to the bar. “We’re not supposed to be worrying about me, we’re supposed to be taking _your_ mind off of Veronica Richards.” Steve grabs the attention of the bartender, ordering two shots each. Both he and Henry push them back like it’s nothing, and Steve’s already ordering more.

Eventually the affects of the alcohol start to take and Steve find himself in the middle of the bar, dancing to “Twist and Shout” with a group of people. Henry is chatting up a girl near the back of the bar, and even though Steve can’t hear what he’s saying, it must be what the girl wants to hear because she’s twirling her hair and biting her lip.

Steve stumbles his way off of the dance floor and asks the bartender for a cup of water. He’s sipping on it when Henry walks up to him, an arm around the waist of the girl he was just talking to.

“Hey Stevie, this is Heather,” Henry says, head nodding towards the girl next to him. His face is red, a clear indicator he’s still feeling the effects of the alcohol he had earlier.

“It’s Holly.” She says, but it’s said off-handedly, like it doesn’t really bother her.

“Shit yeah, sorry, anyways, we’re gonna head out and probably go back to my place.” Henry says, “You good to get back on your own?” Henry asks and Steve continues to sip on his water, focusing his vision on Henry.

Steve nods his head. “Yeah, I should be fine, and hopefully it won’t be on my own.” Steve says, winking at Henry.

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, you know what they say, a drunk man’s words are a sober man’s thoughts.”

“Who’s they? Let me guess, Griffin Riley?” Steve says, teasing.

“It sure was, and you know what I said about Griffin Riley.” Henry says as he starts to be lead out of the bar by Heather, no Holly. “If he says it,”

“It’s gospel.” Steve finishes.

“Go with God.” Henry tells him.

—-

Steve hangs back for about thirty minutes, ordering a couple more drinks and making conversation with a boy named Jack, no Jeremy, no Jason. He eventually lets the conversation die down when he realizes it isn’t going anywhere. Now he’s leaning against the bar, nursing a cup of water and trying to make conversation with the bartender. He’s failing.

Almost like clockwork, he sees Billy Hargrove standing at the other side of the bar. He notices him for a couple of moments before Billy notices him back. He sees Billy’s eyes light up and he starts to make his way towards Steve. Steve doesn’t know if it’s the alcohol in his system, but he’s instilled with a wave of confidence. A wave of confidence that wants to let Billy Hargrove in. 

“Harrington, it’s almost like clock work, you and me.” He says as he settles up next to Steve, taking a swig of his beer.

“That it is, Billy.” Steve says, finishing off his water. “You come to Ace’s often?” Steve asks, hoping he’s not read too much as a cliché.

“Not really, but Weaving told me he was hitting up this place today and I’m always down for a good time. Speaking of, where is the bastard?” Billy asks and Steve struggles to remember the name of the girl Henry left with.

“Left with some girl named, Hannah, about half an hour ago.” Steve says and Billy rolls his eyes. 

“Color me not surprised, let’s just hope this one isn’t Luckerby’s girlfriend’s friend.” Billy says, paying his tab. “Still haven’t heard the end of it from Carly.”

“Luckerby’s girlfriend is friends with Veronica?” Steve asks, following Billy’s lead and paying his tab.

“No, she’s friend with Amy.” Billy says, smiling. Steve can’t help but laugh, Henry’s reputation proceeds him. Billy stares at Steve, taking in his laugh, smile and his overall appearance.He’s often seen Steve in passing and doesn’t really get to appreciate Steve’s appearance; he takes a deep breath and decides to go for it. “Hey, this might be forward, but would you wanna get out of here?”

Steve feels like he’s had the wind knocked out him. He’s looking at Billy, as if he’s waiting for him to rescind what he’s said, or said he’s just joshing him. Billy doesn’t.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I might have taken the "Nancy wants to be a writer" plot line of season three and ran with it. Also don't be Henry and leave your drunk friend alone at a bar.
> 
> I'm super happy with how this chapter turned out and how the story's going overall and I hope you guys think the same. Please continue with the feedback, it's extremely helpful. 
> 
> Feel free to send me requests to my [tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/cavlarycvptain)
> 
> Hope you enjoyed :)


	6. Chapter Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, Billy's a little bit of cliche but Steve doesn't mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're confused by any terminology, feel free to use this nifty little [link](https://fiftiesweb.com//pop/1960s-slang/)
> 
> Please comment and let me know what you think and I hope you enjoy! :)

Sitting on a bench, smoking a cigarette and listening to the sound of the traffic on surface streets wasn’t what Steve thought Billy meant when he suggested they get out of Ace’s, but he’s also not complaining.

“Love seeing this place at night,” Billy says, breaking the silence. “It’s just, sometimes the party scene can be a bit much. Nice to be in a place where things feel more at peace.” Billy continues. “I saw you across the bar and you looked like someone who would appreciate the silence.”

Billy takes a drag of his cigarette and Steve nods his head in understanding. Henry always tells Steve that they’re young and now’s the time to live their lives to the fullest; but even embracing the present can get tiring after a while.

“Don’t know how you get along with Henry.” Steve jokes and Billy lets out a laugh, exhaling the smoke.

“Weaving’s hard to say no to, what can I say” Billy says, smiling. “How are things with his new girl, uh, Veronica is it?” Steve exhales as his shoulders drop and he taps his cigarette. “Last I heard she was tee’d off about something.” 

“She was flipping her wig about something and didn’t like the Henry had a clear head about the situation.” Steve rolls his eyes. “He’ll be fine though, he’ll probably find me tomorrow to tell me he’s in love with Heather.”

“Thought her name was Hannah.”

“Sure.” Steve says and Billy laughs as if it’s the funniest thing he’s heard all night. Billy gets up from his spot on the bench, and throws his cigarette on the ground, stomping it out. 

“You mind walking with me back to my apartment?” Billy asks Steve, “I wouldn’t mind the company.” Steve looks at Billy, a fluttering feeling starts in his stomach. While he would normally read this as another invitation, there’s a look of genuine curiosity; as if Billy really just wants the company.

“Uh yeah sure, the fresh air will do me some good.” Steve says. He gets up from the bench and he and Billy start making their way towards Billy’s apartment.

“So, you’re a film studies major?” Billy asks Steve. “I’ve seen you around Irving before, figured no one’s there unless they have a reason to be.” Steve takes a drag of his cigarette and exhales before answering.

“Uh yeah, watched Singing in the Rain when I was a kid and have been in love with Stanley Donen’s vision ever since.” Steve says, eyes brightening up. “His use of color was just amazing and it was something I always wanted to understand the magic behind it, and,” Steve’s about to continue on when he hears a light chuckle come from Billy. “Sorry, I’m rambling. I just really like Stanley’s eye for color.” Steve says.

“No, no, it’s fine.” Billy says, easing Steve’s anxiety. “More of a black and white fan myself. Hitchcock’s Pyscho is one of my favorites; gotta be the only man who can kill off the main character and still write a great story. Guy’s a genius.” Billy says and Steve might be able to empathize with Henry’s feeling’s he had towards Veronica the night he met her. Then again, they both had that liquid courage coursing through them, so the empathy might be stemming from that.

“Anthony Perkins isn’t half bad himself.” Steve jokes, hoping he’s reading the conversation right. Billy’s eyes light up slightly and he smiles.

“You ain’t wrong there Harrington, seen him in The Trial?” Billy says and lets out a whistle. Steve smiles and they continue walking to Billy’s apartment and while Steve feels himself start to sober up, he still feels that fluttering feeling in his stomach.

“So you’re a film major too?” Steve asked, though he already felt he knew the answer. He would have seen Billy in a class at this point, but he’s interested in knowing Billy Hargrove while he he’s got his attention. “You said no one would be in Irving unless they had to be.”

“Creative writing minor, accounting major.” Billy says, “Dad says he wants to me to make something of my life.” Billy mumbles out, the softest he’s spoken all night. “As cliche as it sounds, I understand numbers, but writing understands me.”

“Wow, Billy.” Steve says, “You’re right, that is cliche.” Steve says smiling and Billy smiles back at him. “Can’t believe a writer like you has thought of something so profound.”

“Give a guy a break,” Billy says, pushing at Steve in a teasing manner. “I’m much more prolific when I’ve got my wits about me.” 

“I don’t know, Billy, a wise man once said a drunk man’s words are a sober man’s thoughts.” Steve says and Billy rolls his eyes.

“Let me guess,” Billy begins.

“Henry.” They both say at the same time and they both start laughing. 

“If we want to be accurate though, it was Griffin Riley that told Henry, and apparently,”

“If Griffin Riley says it, it’s gospel.” Billy says. “The only thing bigger than Henry’s reputation is his mouth.” Billy says and he suddenly stops in front of an apartment building. “Well, this is me, thanks for the company Harrington.”

“No sweat, it gave me a chance to sober up a bit before I have to catch the subway.” Steve says as he pushes his hands into his pockets. “It was nice getting to know you a bit better, Hargrove.”

“Feeling’s mutual.” Billy says and he turns around to head up the stairs when he suddenly stops. “This may be forward, and I’m probably going to embarrass myself just by asking, but,” Billy hesitates and Steve’s left on edge. “Strangers on a Train is playing at the movie theatre next weekend, would you want to go?”

Once again, Steve ponders on the invitation, wondering if it _is_ in fact, an invitation. Just like an hour ago, he wonders if Billy’s joking, taunting him with the idea, but he sees that genuine curiosity in Billy’s eyes again.

“Sounds like a plan, Hargrove.” Steve says, smiling.

—

“Nancy.” Steve all but yells when he rushes through Nancy’s doorway. He’s becoming more like Henry every day, but that’s something he’ll dwell on at a later time. “Nance, you’re not going to believe this.” He finally looks at Nancy, sitting on the couch and Jonathan’s in the corner, putting a different record on the record player.

“Oh, I seem to be interrupting something.” Steve says, smiling at Nancy and Jonathan. Nancy rolls her eyes and grabs Steve’s arm.

“Excuse us, Jonathan.” Nancy drags Steve into her bedroom and shuts the door.

“Don’t know how that looked, Nance, might have made Johnny boy jealous.” Steve taunts and Nancy glares at him.

“I know studying is rare for you, but some of us need to do it for chemistry class.” Nancy says. “What do you need Steve?”

“No, no, I’ll be on my way, but you owe me breakfast _and_ answers at Patsy’s tomorrow.” Steve says, dodging Nancy’s playful swat. “You can catch me up on the “chemistry”.” Steve says, putting air quotes around the last word.

Steve starts his departure from Nancy’s apartment but not before flashing a smile at Jonathan. “See ya later, Johnny boy.” Steve lets out a laugh when he sees Jonathan drop the album sleeve that’s in his hands.

Nancy pushes Steve out, leaves him with a “goodbye Steve” and Steve is left laughing by himself in the hallway.

After leaving Nancy’s apartment, Steve catches the subway and is one of three people on the train. A low light is cascading across the train and Steve’s looking back on the night he just spent with Billy Hargrove. A night in Central Park followed by a walk to Midtown discussing Alfred Hitchcock isn’t a night he expected from Billy Hargrove but he’s not complaining.

Steve has always been one to enjoy the company.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a slow burn ya'll, slower than even I expected lmao. However, I plan for this to be no longer than 15, 20 chapters so it's gonna start moving sooner rather than later. Hope you enjoyed this chapter :) 
> 
> If you haven't please feel free to read my latest one shot, [He Looks Like a Riot](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19814101) :)


	7. Chapter Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Henry's a mess, but when is he not?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoy :) 
> 
> If you're a visual person like me, Henry Weaving looks like 2012 Sebastian Stan

“Why do I drink?” Steve says, rubbing his temples. “Why do I do anything that has consequences?”

“Because you don’t know how to say no to Henry.” Nancy says, pouring sugar into her coffee. Steve pushes around the eggs that are on his plate, refusing to admit that Nancy’s right. “Besides, this time it’s on you. You’re the one who wanted to make him forget about Veronica. How did that go by the way?”

“Left with some girl named Harriet so I think it went just fine.” Steve stabs at his hash browns before realizing that he isn’t, in fact, all that hungry. “I guess it’s worth the headache if it gets Henry out of his slump.” 

“Funny that you’re implying hanging out with Henry doesn’t give you a headache regardless.” Nancy jokes and Steve continues to stare at her.

“What is it now, Steve?” Nancy asks, giving Steve the invitation he’s clearly been waiting for. Steve doesn’t have to say anything for Nancy to know he’s just itching to get something out. 

“Nothing,” Steve begins, looking down at the checkered tile on the floor. “Just waiting for you to tell me that I’m right.” He looks up at Nancy, a mischievous smile on his face. Nancy rolls her eyes and Steve can’t help but notice the rose tinted hue that’s starting to cover her face. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about Steve.” Nancy says, pushing her hair behind her ear and looking down at her cup of coffee. “I needed some help with Carlyle’s class and I got some.” Nancy says, shrugging her shoulders while her finger circling the rim of the coffee cup. “Plenty of college students do it, not that you would know.”

“Needed help? Nancy you got a 98 on her last exam.”

“99 actually.” Nancy says, holding back a smile and Steve rolls his eyes.

“Thus further proving my point.” Steve sits back against the booth and smiles at Nancy. “Besides who needs help with chemistry in the middle of the night?”

“I’m not going to let you distract me from the fact _you’re_ the one who came barging in to my apartment in the middle of the night like it was some dire emergency.” Nancy’s quick to say, desperate to change the subject. “You’ve been hanging around Henry for far too long. What did you even need anyways?”

“Eh, don’t worry about.” Steve says, shrugging his shoulders. Now that he’s a bit more levelheaded, no not levelheaded, sober; he realizes he might have jumped the gun when deciding to tell Nancy about the night he shared with Billy Hargrove. Billy Hargrove isn’t the kind to commit, as Henry said just last night, and there’s no point of bringing up something that could inevitably end in heartache. Nancy’s heard to many of those beginnings. 

“Are you sure?” Nancy asks, mirroring Steve’s mischievous smile. “Last night you said it was unbelievable.”

“Exactly why I can’t tell you, Nance.You wouldn’t believe me.” Steve says and smiles when Nancy as she rolls her eyes. Steve can tell she’s chosen to drop the subject though, and for that he’s grateful.

“I can’t stand you, Steve Harrington.” Nancy says as she looks at her watch. “I’ve got to get out of here, there’s a new probable lead on the campus vandalism story and I have to get to it before Lionel does.” Nancy explains she starts to put on her coat.

“Thought you dropped that story?” Steve asks and Nancy smiles at him. 

“No, Lionel _thinks_ I dropped that story.” Nancy says as she places a $10 bill on the table. “Make sure this actually pays our bill this time.” She says, eyes narrowing at Steve. Steve raises his hands up and raises his eyebrows as if to say he has no idea what Nancy’s talking about. “I’ll catch you later, Steve.”

“Bye Nance,” Steve says and then looks down at his plate, wondering if he wants to finished the untouched food on his plate, or just get out of here. His decision is made for him when he sees Henry slide into the booth in front of him.

“Well aren’t you a site for sore eyes.” Henry says before reaching over to Steve’s plate and taking a piece of bacon. “Looks like you got home okay.”

“And it looks like you are doing a lot better than I am.” Steve replies. “How are you not hungover?”

“You’re talking to a seasoned pro, Stevie, it’s gonna take a lot more than a couple of shots to take down Henry Weaving.” Henry says before moving Steve’s entire plate in front of him. “I’m not a man that’s easily knocked down.”

“Veronica Richards might say different.” Steve says without thinking. He looks up wide eyed and sees that Henry’s laughing.

“You are a true comedian, you know that, Stevie?” Henry says and Steve lets out a a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “Actually ran into Veronica on my way over here.” Henry says before taking a sip of Steve’s water.

“How’d that go?”

“She saw this” Henry says while pointing at a hickey on his neck. “and said that we’re over. Told her I didn’t even know we started. Almost flipped her wig right then and there.”

Steve lets out a laugh but also feels a relief that Henry’s no longer harboring heartache. “So Veronica Richards is out and,” Steve drags out the last word, hoping Henry fills in the silence. 

“Holly,” Henry answers, “and no. Think I’m gonna take a break from “finding the one” ya dig? ‘Sides she seemed like a preppie, wouldn’t really mesh well with my signature greaser style. ” Henry says, leaning back against the booth.

“I think you’re the only greaser I’ve met that owns a turtleneck.” Steve taunts, knowing damn well Henry is as far as could be from a greaser.

“Well seeing that I’m the only one you’ve probably ever met, that makes sense.” Henry says, “What about you? Did you luck out last night?”

“Uh no,” Steve says.“Actually spent some time with Billy Hargrove.” Steve sees Henry choke on his sip of water and struggles to hold in a laugh. Henry stares at Steve, as if he’s waiting for him to continue. “We just smoked a cigarette in Central Park, talked and shit, and then I walked with him back to his apartment.”

“So let me get this straight, you,” Henry points at him. “and Billy Hargrove both left Ace’s last night, and you didn’t score.”

“Always the romantic aren’t you, Henry.”

“Joke all you want but keep in mind that I know both you _and_ Billy. It’s just out of character for both of you.” Henry says shrugging and Steve’s left wondering if it’s an insult.

“I don’t know, I think it was nice a change of pace.” Steve says. “Learned that he’s a Hitchcock fan.” 

“Who isn’t these days?” Henry says under his breath.

“We’re catching a showing of Strangers on a Train next Saturday. You should come.” Steve says and Henry adamantly shakes his head.

“I’ve got Henderson’s film theory lecture that Monday and I already know that I’m going to put off studying for it until next weekend.” Henry says. “ ‘sides, wouldn’t want to third wheel you’re date with Hargrove.”

“You know, you sure do talk a lot just for you to not really say anything.” Steve says and Henry laughs. “Now come on, I’m gonna go share a joint with Doug, I figured you would want to join us.”

“Stevie, you know the way to my heart.”Henry says, smiling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is so short, but I really want to make Billy and Steve's not date/totally a date it's own chapter because there's going to be a lot of backstory included. There's also some things that are brought up in this chapter that are going to be important in the long run. Trust me, I know you guy are here for the Harringrove and you are definitely going to get it. 
> 
> Quick question: Is this all too descriptive? I took a screenwriting class during my last semester of university and I think it's started to filter in to my creative fiction writing.


	8. Chapter Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve and Billy catch a showing of Strangers on a Train and Farley Granger has never looked more beautiful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry! It's still me, just a name change! 
> 
> Hope you enjoy :)

“Strangers on a Train? I thought you hated that film?” Nancy asks as she pours grenadine into her cup of lemon-lime soda. “Said it was, and I quote, a bore.”

“No no no Nancy,” Steve says, grabbing her drink and taking an uninvited sip. “I said it was my least favorite Hitchcock film and it was _boring_ compared to his other films.” Steve says, putting Nancy’s drink back on the counter. “What’s the point of talking if you’re not listening?”

“Never seemed to stop you before.” Nancy says, glaring at Steve as she moves her drink away from him. “Are you sure this isn’t just an excuse to go on a date with Billy Hargrove?” While it’s proposed as a question, it comes off more like a statement, definite. 

“You and Henry are one in the same.” Steve says while rolling his eyes.

“What a horrible thing to say.”

“It’s not a date.” Steve says, ignoring Nancy’s jeer at Henry. If she really didn’t like Henry she wouldn’t give him the time of day. “Henry and I have seen countless movies together and I’m not trying to make it with him.” Nancy lets out a sound of disgust and shakes her head, as if she’s trying to rid the image from her mind.

“You know it’s not the same.” Nancy says, intent on not letting the matter go. 

“Bold take from someone who had Jonathan Byers over here well past midnight so you could, “go over a story” for the paper.” Steve retaliates and he sees Nancy back down. “People in glass houses shouldn’t throw stones, Nance.” Steve says, but he’s sure to say it with a smile so Nancy knows there’s no malice behind his words.

Nancy sighs and Steve’s able to read into the near silence. “Nancy, don’t worry, you’d be the first to know if I ever had a main squeeze.” Steve says and Nancy’s features soften. She uncrosses her arms, which are crossed more often than not and she smiles up at him.

“I know Steve, I just want to avoid another Randy Erickson problem if possible.” Nancy teases and Steve rolls his eyes.Steve’s about to respond when there’s a knock on Nancy’s door. “It’s open.” Nancy calls out.

Jonathan walks through the door, his Kodak Automatic 35 camera hanging around his neck. He looks at Steve and gives him a soft smile, and Steve can tell he’s more comfortable than the last time he saw him. Granted Steve isn’t stumbling into Nancy’s apartment the slightest bit drunk at 1 a.m., but hey who’s to say that’s why.

“Hey Johnny boy, mint camera you’ve got there. Oh, I see,” Steve starts and then turns to look at Nancy. Her arms are folded across her chest again and she already looks unimpressed by what Steve is about to say. “You keep saying I’m going on a date because you’re projecting.”

“No Steven, I said that because you’re seeing Strangers on a Train with Billy Hargrove.” Nancy says and Steve narrows his eyes at her. 

“Strangers on a Train? Love that film.” Jonathan says, making sure they remember he’s in the room. “Not one of Hitchcock’s best, in my opinion, but it’s a bit of a personal favorite.” Jonathan smiles and Steve smiles back at him. “Love his films.”

“Gotta say Johnny boy,” Steve says before taking Nancy’s drink back off the counter. “the more I get to know you, the more I like.” Steve says before winking at Jonathan and taking a sip of Nancy’s concoction.

Nancy grabs the drink out of Steve’s hand and places it back on the counter. “Don’t you have to bail, Steve?” Nancy asks. “Wouldn’t want to keep Billy Hargrove waiting?” Steve looks back and forth between Nancy and Jonathan but concedes.

“Alright, I get it, you two want to be alone, got it.” Steve says and Nancy rolls her eyes.

“If you must know, Jonathan and I are doing more research on the campus vandalism case.” Nancy says and Steve steals a look at Jonathan. 

“You’re not afraid of the big bad Lionel?” Steve asks him and Jonathan shrugs his shoulders.

“Lionel’s kind of a dick.” Jonathan says and Steve sees Nancy start to smile out of the corner of his eye. While the joke is there, he decides to let it linger in silence and takes that as his cue to leave.

“Alright, well, you kids have fun,but don’t have too much fun.” Steve says as he grabs his jacket and begins to feel Nancy push him out of her apartment.

“I can not stand you Steve Harrington.” Nancy says before closing the door behind him.

—-

Steve has put his hands in his pockets about three times in the last ten minutes simply because he doesn’t know what to do with them. He’s standing outside the Starlight theatre, alternating between checking his watch and letting his hands lie dormant in his cardigan pockets.

His walk from Nancy’s apartment wasn’t as long as it normally is, and it’s definitely not because Steve had a spring in his step. Steve’s about to check his watch once again, when he hears his name called.

“Harrington, nice to see you didn’t stand me up.” He turns around and sees Billy Hargrove walking towards him. 

Steve thought that their overall presence couldn’t be more juxtaposed, but he realizes the dichotomy of their fashion sense proves him wrong. Steve’s burgundy cardigan makes him look more like a member of Dion and the Belmonts than a prep when he’s standing next to Billy in his black leather jacket. 

“And miss out on a chance to see Hitchcock? Not a chance.” Steve says and Billy smiles at him. They both walk up to the ticket booth and Billy asks for two tickets to Strangers on a Train. Steve reaches for his wallet but Billy stops him.

“You kept me company in Central Park, this one is on me.” Billy says, pulling out his wallet. Steve’s left wondering if this is how Nancy feels after Steve covers their tab at Patsy’s.

“Thanks.” Steve says taking the ticket from Billy.

“No biggie.” Billy says. “Now come on, let’s go see Farley Granger steal the screen.” 

—-

“Gotta admit, that film might just be better the second time around.” Steve says as he and Billy head outside the theatre. “It’s no North by Northwest, though.”

“So we’re going to act like Vertigo doesn’t exist?” Billy says as he pulls out a cigarette carton, pulling one out and putting it into his mouth. He holds the carton out to Steve and Steve grabs one for himself. “Or even Rear Window?”He lights both of their cigarettes for them.

“Didn’t know I was talking to such a Hitchcock aficionado. Might give Henry a run for his money.” Steve says and Billy exhales smoke as he lets out a laugh.

‘Oh Weaving, a night out with that guy is like a rush without the drugs. Swear if I didn’t know the guy I would think he’s bent.”

“Not knowing if Henry’s a sick puppy or not is just part of his charm.” Steve jokes as he and Billy start walking towards the transit. “Almost didn’t think he knew what sleep was until he passed out on my couch after a really crazy night.”

“He knows how to keep a party going.” Billy adds. “Can’t fault him for that. Speaking of which,” Billy says before taking another drag of his cigarette. “You wanna see something?” Billy asks and Steve’s staring at him. Billy hadn’t disappointed Steve yet.

“Sure.” Steve answers. “Let’s get out of here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there's some good news and some sad news. Good news, after a very long year of searching, I finally got my first out of college job! Sad news, it's probably going to take some time away that I would be able to use on this story. However, this story will be finished and it's almost a little half over. Right now the plan is to post updates on Sunday, but no promises. 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed this chapter, please continue letting me know what you think! 
> 
> Feel free to send requests, prompts or ideas to my [tumblr](https://cavlarycvptain.tumblr.com)


	9. Chapter Nine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Billy finds out Steve's a bit starry eyed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment and let me know what you're thinking of this so far! I'm really relying on feedback from you guys :)
> 
> Hope you enjoy :)

“Oh wow Billy.” Steve says, wide eyed and well, astonished by the imagery in front of him.

A silhouette of a child holding a paint brush that’s been dipped in red paint is sitting under a cluster of words that say, “END WAR BEFORE IT ENDS YOU.” It’s in the same red paint as the dipped brush in the child’s hand.

“It’s one that Luckerby and I have been working on for the last couple of weeks.” Billy says, standing back with his hands and looking at his creation with pride. “We’ve almost gotten caught a couple of times, you know, with the other ones.”  Billy’s smiling as he says it, like he’s reveling in the fact he’s had a brush with danger. Well, if danger was campus security.   
****

“It’s,” Steve hesitates, trying to think of the words to describe it. “good.”

“Wow, you really went through the rolodex to find that one huh?” Billy jokes and Steve lightly jabs at him.

“Not all of us can be writers that can think of phrases such as, “I get math, but words get me” and other wonders like that.” Steve jokes back and he sees Billy rolls his eyes but he can’t deny the smile that graces his face.

“What can I say, I’ve got a gift.” Billy says shrugging his shoulders and then stuffing his hands his pockets. “It’s nice to see that you like it, seriously. This has been one of my favorites.”  

Steve takes his eyes off the painting so he can look at Billy. Billy’s staring up at the artwork, a gleam in his eye. “Luckerby does most of the actual artwork, I just think of what it should say, or more importantly, mean.”

“It’s you.” Steve says, the dots finally connecting. “You’re behind the campus graffiti.” He thinks of all of the developed pictures that he’s seen on Nancy’s coffee table, how the signature in the bottom of the graffiti is the same in all of those photos. “Nance’s gonna flip her lid.” Steve says to himself, under his breath. 

“Consider me caught.” Billy says, raising his hands in a mocking manner. “You gonna rat me out?” Billy asks, pulling a cigarette carton out of his pocket. “Might ruin the fun.” 

Steve stares at the artwork in front of him, then back at Billy. He’s just now starting to begin to understand who the mystery that is Billy Hargrove. 

What Nancy doesn’t know won’t hurt her. 

“No way.” Steve says smiling. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

——

“Thanks for tonight.” Steve says as Billy walks him to the subway station. “It’s nice knowing I don’t have to rely on Henry for my Hitchcock fix.” 

“Oh Weaving.” Billy says Henry’s name as if it’s almost a distant memory. “Guy’s bent, but a blast.” Billy says.  “Glad I could be of service though. Luckerby is great for committing a misdemeanor or two, but not so great for a Hitchcock screening.” Billy smiles at Steve and Steves smiles back, slowly getting lost Billy’s sparkling blue eyes.

“Luckerby’s got a real gift, hope he realizes that one day.” Billy throws his cigarette on to the sidewalk, stamping it out. “I think he hates being an economics major 50 times more than I hate being an accounting major.”

“And you know the numbers.” Steve says, smiling softly at Billy.

“You know, I was an astronomy major when I first got here.” Steve says, leaning against the railing outside of 12th Street station. “Watched Riders to the Stars when I was younger, and decided that’s what I want to do.” Steve looks up in to the night sky. “I wanted to learn more about what’s up there and what’s left to be discovered.”

“Why did you change majors?” Billy asks, leaning against the railing, standing next to Steve.

“Turns out I’m afraid of the dark.” Steve says, in all seriousness and Billy stares at him, a loss of what to stay. Steve falls in to a fit of laughter and Billy starts laughing with him. 

“No, I just didn’t know how much math would be involved, seemed like too much of a hassle.” Steve says, “ Didn’t have a back up plan though, parents started going apeshit because I was at college and wasn’t getting an education. That’s when I met Nancy, she’s a journalism major. First thing I asked her was why she picked such an unreliable major.”

“Well why did she?” Billy asks.

“It’s what makes her happy. Told me that the happiest path isn’t always the easiest.” Steve says, shrugging. “It was something she said off-handedly but it’s stuck with me since. I told my parents that I was going in to film, and I might not be the next Hitchcock or Donen, but I’d be happy.” 

“And they were okay with that?”

“They’re staring to be.” Steve says. “After I became a film major, I met Henry and well, the rest is history.” Billy stares at Steve and then stares away, in contemplation. “Sorry, about that, I tend to talk everyone’s ear off.” 

“No, no,” Billy says, “This was nice, Harrington.” Steve smiles at Billy before checking his watch and seeing that his last train is about to board.

“I’ve gotta run, but,” Steve stops, “Let me know if you wanna do this again.” Billy smiles and waves Steve off.

“Get out of here Harrington, before it gets too dark.”

——

“Come on, Harrington.” Henry says, shaking Steve out of his slumber. “Patsy’s is having a two for one deal on their breakfast and I am starving.” Steve pries open his eyes and sees Henry’s smiling down at him. “Up and at ‘em, sunshine.”

“Henry you’ve got ketchup on your shirt,” Steve says, laying back down and putting his pillow on his head. “You’ve clearly just _been_ to Patsy’s.”

Henry frowns and stares down at his shirt; and sure enough, there’s a huge red stain near his third button. “Well, shit. I can’t believe Veronica didn’t say anything before I left.” Henry says as he begins to take off his shirt. Now that catches Steve’s attention. 

“Veronica?” Steve says, sitting up. He rolls his eyes as he sees a half naked Henry shuffling through his closet. “ Veronica Richards? The broad who had you heartbroken?”

“Knew that would wake you up.” Henry says after slipping on one of Steve’s shirts. “Now come on, treat me to a second breakfast.” Henry says, throwing Steve a shirt from Steve’s closet. “I’m starving.”

——-

“Good to see you so soon, Henry.” Martha, a waitress who considers Henry her own, “irregular” says. “Can’t believe it’s been a whole, what, ” She turns her wrist. “45 minutes.”

“Martha,” Henry says. “I thought you were a dove, why the animosity.” Martha rolls her eyes, but tends to them anyways.

“The usual?” She asks, sounding dejected. Henry smiles at her like it’s all the answer she needs. She takes the menus from both Steve and Henry and walks away. 

“We’re gonna fall in love one day,” Henry says, “She’s crazy for me.”

“Henry’s she twice our age.” Steve says, head in his hands, still acclimating to the bright sun shining through the diner window.

“And twice as hot as almost any girl our age, what a babe.” Henry says as his eyes follows Martha behind the counter.

“Don’t think Veronica’s going to be happy to hear that, speaking of which,” Steve begins. “What the hell, Henry? You’re going on and on about how she’s a sick puppy, now you want to shack up with her?”

“Never did I _ever_ say I was shacking up with Veronica Richards.” Henry says, “We met up this morning to finally end things on good terms. She said she felt bad about how we, well she, ended things.”

“And you decided to go along with it?” Steve asks, incredulously.

“It’s free breakfast.” Henry says, shrugging. “Now, don’t let my morning with Veronica Richards distract us from the fact you went on a date with Billy Hargrove.”

“Wasn’t a date, Henry.” Steve says. “We just caught a movie together, that’s it.”

“Not just any movie, a Hitchcock movie.” Henry says. “Hurts to think you’re cheating on me, Stevie.”

“Now you know how your ex-girlfriends feel.” Steve says to himself, under his breath. Henry lets out a laugh as Martha begins to put their food in front of them. Henry begins to thank Martha, but she’s already begun to walk away.

“Okay, I’m serious, how did last night go?” Henry asks, sprinkling salt on to his eggs. “I’ve only really gotten to know Hargrove when at least one of us is blitzed.”

Steve tells Henry about his night; about Billy showing him the art, because don’t worry, Henry can keep a secret. He told Henry about changing his major, about how he met Henry. Steve tells Henry about all of it. As Steve continues to talk about the night he and Billy spent together, Henry can read the emotions on Steve’s face like a book.

“Oh Stevie,” Henry smiles softly, like he means it. “You might be in some deep shit.” 

“Why?” Steve asks, eyebrows drawing close together.

“You’ve got a thing for Billy Hargrove.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is late, I decided at 11:59pm to go a VERY different way to in the middle of this chapter so I can draw the story out more and I had to rework a couple of things. Hope you enjoyed :) 
> 
> As I said earlier, please comment and let me know what you think! Feedback is very very much appreciated. Chapter 10 is going to be a doozy.


	10. Chapter Ten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nancy. Jonathan. Shirley Temples.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this might be my favorite chapter so far so please comment and let me know what you think because they absolutely make my day and I would always love the feedback. 
> 
> The songs Jonathan and Nancy listen to are [Time after Time](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8v_55Kd7obY) and [Dream a Little Dream of Me](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h7j8wa9sWOE). If you're able to, I recommend listening to either one of them when reading their scene.

“You’ve got a thing for Billy Hargrove.”

Steve stares across the table at Henry, feeling like he’s just had the wind knocked out of him. He thinks back over the last night, over the night they spent in Central Park, all the subtle glances and the occasional run in that always seems to happen, “like clockwork” as Billy once said.

He makes the mistake of thinking back on the rush of emotions he feels whenever he has the privilege of just being near Billy. A yearning feeling that crashes in to his heart like a wave, one that he’s purposely ignored up until this point. One that he had made a point of ignoring because he doesn’t have a thing for Billy Hargrove. 

Steve feels himself fall back against the booth, looks at Henry again and sighs.

Fuck.

He’s got a thing for Billy Hargrove.

“Oh God.” Steve says as his head falls into his hands. “I’ve got a thing for Billy Hargrove.” He says dejectedly to the booth table and he hears Henry start to laugh.

“I should start charging people for this type of thing.” Henry says as he steals a piece of bacon off of Steve’s plate like he doesn’t already have three pieces on his own. “Psychic readings and what not; just call me Henry the Houdini.”

“Houdini was an escape artist, Henry. Not a psychic.” Steve says after looking back up at Henry.

“So you admit I’m a psychic.” Henry says, cocking up one eyebrow. “Come on Stevie, it’s not the end of the world. So you’ve got a thing for Billy Hargrove, it doesn’t mean you’re gonna marry the guy.”

“Would be hard to marry him seeing that it’s not even legal.” Steve says in rebuttal under his breath. While he knows Henry and Nancy don’t have any problem with Steve’s sexuality, he’s not unaware of taboo nature of it in the current climate.

“You know what I mean.” Henry says. “You’ve got a crush, it’ll probably pass, you’ll be okay.” 

“Yeah, yeah, you’re right.” Steve says, agreeing, though he and Henry both know that’s a lie. When Steve falls for someone, he falls hard. It’s why Randy Erickson has been in the picture for as long as he has.

“Who knows, maybe you’ll be the person who’ll be able to tame _the_ Billy Hargrove.” Henry saysas he signals to Martha that they’re ready for the check. Steve goes to reach for his wallet when Henry stops him.

“It’s on me.” Henry says, pulling out his wallet. 

“I didn’t even know you owned one of those.” Steve says and Henry lets out a sarcastic laugh.

“Weird way to thank a guy who just bought you breakfast.” Henry says as Margaret places the check on their table. “Can you believe this, Margaret?”

“Yes.” She says pointedly and then walks away.

“She’s in love with me, Stevie.” Henry says pulling out a $10 bill. “In love.” Steve rolls his eyes but he can’t deny he’s happy to have a friend like Henry.

“Thanks Henry.”

“No biggie, Stevie.” Henry says, sending that charming smile that’s been known to works its wonders on everyone. Well, except Margaret.

——

“Wow Jonathan, these,” Nancy begins, holding the photos delicately in her touch. “These are great.”

“Thanks.” Jonathan says, looking over the photos with a sense of trepidation. “You’re not just saying that because I’m right here are you?” Jonathan says with a slight laugh. Nancy can tell it’s an attempt at masquerading his creeping anxiety at possibly being correct.

“No, Jonathan,” Nancy says, giving Jonathan a reassuring smile. “They’re amazing, truly; or, “cherry” as Steve would probably say.” Nancy gets up from her spot on the couch and begins walking towards her refrigerator. “Can I get you anything to drink? Water, coffee, pop?”

“No, you don’t have to worry about th-”

“Jonathan please,” Nancy says, “You’ve gone to the trouble of doing well, all of this.” Nancy says, gesturing to the notepads and pictures on her coffee table. “Let me grace you with some of my hospitality.”

“Uh yes, then sure.” Jonathan says, smiling while a slight rose hue spreads across his face. “I’ll take a pop.”

“Lemon-lime okay?” Nancy says as she opens the door to her refrigerator. She turns around holding two green glass bottles in her hand. Jonathan nods in affirmation and Nancy places the bottles on the counter and grabs two glasses out of a cabinet and fills them with ice.

“Oh you don’t have to worry, I can drink it out of the bottle,” Jonathan begins to say but it appears that Nancy is taking an active stance to ignore him as she continues moving about the kitchen. She pours the soda into the glass which is then followed by a copious amount of cherry red syrup.

“One Shirley Temple,” Nancy says. “On the house.” She winks at Jonathan before moving over to the record player and puts on Margaret Whiting’s Time After Time. She takes a seat on the couch next to Jonathan and raises her glass in the air.

“Here’s to a killer story, amazing pictures and sticking it to Lionel Carter.” Nancy says as Jonathan smiles at her and they clink their glasses together. Jonathan takes a sip of his concoction and his eyes widen. He continues to drink and eventually speaks.

“I’ve gotta say, Nancy, that’s good.” Jonathan says and Nancy’s looks at him over the brim of her cup, this time her eyes widening.

“Wait,” She says after taking the cup away from her mouth. “You’ve never had a Shirley Temple before?”

Jonathan shakes his head, and put his glass down on the table. “After my dad walked out on us, money became tight. We barely grew up with pop let alone Shirley Temples.”

They both sit in silence for a few following moments; not an awkward one, but a comfortable one. Nancy smiles at Jonathan and says, “Well that’s just more reason for me to make you another one.”She all but jumps up from the couch and goes to grab Jonathan’s glass.

“Nancy you just made one for me,” Jonathan says laughing. “Maybe I should finish that one first?”

“You sure you haven’t?” Nancy asks and Jonathan takes a look at the glass in her hand, only a cluster of ice cubes covered in a glaze of grenadine remain. Jonathan looks back up at Nancy, slightly embarrassed. “I’ll make you a new one.” She says smiling, reassuring.

While Nancy is making Jonathan another drink, he looks over the notebook on the table and begins to finally take a look over the introduction Nancy’s written about their story. His eyes are pacing left to right as he reads over the words in front of him. 

“Oh wow Nancy,” He says, the lettering on the page staring back at him as Nancy walks back into the living room. She sets the glasses on the table before changing the record to Doris Day’s Dream a Little Dream of Me.

“Oh no,” Nancy says, shoulders deflating when she sees what’s in Jonathan hands. “Look, I know it’s not fab or anything, but it’s only a first draft.”

“No Nancy, this, this is good.” Jonathan says and Nancy rolls her eyes.

“Get real, Jonathan. You don’t need to lie to me.” She says and Jonathan frantically shakes his head.

“I’m not Nancy, I promise.” He turns the notepad around to face her. “This,” He says as he pointsat the page. “Is really good.”

“You’re not just saying that because I’m right here are you?” Nancy asks, a smile guising over her rhetoric as she mimics what Jonathan asked her earlier. “You really think it’s good?”

“Nancy’s it’s great. Lionel’s going to feel like such a dunce when he realizes he’s had such a talented writer and he’s had her writing about fashion for the last couple of years.”

“Well sticking it to that egghead _has_ been the driving motivator behind this story.” Nancy says in jest. She takes a seat next to Jonathan and looks at him. “That means more than you realize Jonathan.”

“I’ll always be in your corner, Nancy. You’ve got a gift and I’m happy I was able to help you show that off.” He says. They sit in a comfortable silence, letting Doris Day’s voice filter into the room.

“You know why I like Shirley Temples?” Nancy asks, breaking the silence.

“Why’s that?”

“I’ve always liked things that were especially sweet.” She says.

“Is that so?” Jonathan asks, looking over at her.

“I think that’s why I keep you around.” She says as she looks up at him. She sees him fight off a smile and he glances away, flustered. 

"Nancy, you're too kind." Jonathan says, looking down at her, entranced by her warm and inviting eyes. 

“Jonathan?” 

“Yes, Nancy?” He asks.

“You can kiss me now.” She says, smiling.

——- 

“So I’m thinking Ace’s again tonight?” Henry says as they walk out of Patsy’s and to Union Station. “Veronica’s chapter is officially closed and I think it’s time to celebrate.”

“How does your liver not hate you yet?” Steve asks as he pushes his hands into his jacket pocket.

“Who could hate Henry Weaving?” Henry asks.

“Margaret.” Steve says without missing a beat. Henry laughs and takes a look at his watch.

“Shit,” He says, and he starts to turn around. “I forgot I’m meeting up with Dougie at his pad to pick up some weed. Wanna join us a later tonight?”

“Are we toking up at Doug’s or are we going to Ace’s?” Steve asks and Henry shrugs his shoulders.

“Why not both?” He suggests as he starts walking backwards. “Who knows, maybe we’ll have enough fun at Ace’s that I’ll finallylet you shotgun with me at Dougie’s.” Henry says while winking at Steve. 

“I could only wish to consider myself so lucky.” Steve says and Henry smiles at him.

“Aces at 11pm.” Henry says, leaving no room for argument. “See you then, Stevie.”

Henry’s more or less gone before Steve can say anything back and he shakes his head at the entity that is Henry Weaving. He continues walking to Union Station when he decides to make a quick detour to The Turning Point.

He walks in and sees that Jonathan isn’t behind the counter, which makes him a little sad. Who’s going to direct him to the good stuff and the not so good stuff, and by that he means Elvis. He smiles at the cashier who looks at him and then stares back down at her magazine. He’s able to read the room and acknowledge she’s not here to actually help and decides to navigate to through the aisles himself.

He eventually finds the Frank Sinatra collection, the self proclaimed “good stuff” and he’s stuck shuffling through records he already has. He’s shuffling through them for a second time when the door opens and whoever has just walked in is now standing in front of him.

“Harrington.”

Steve looks up and Randy Erickson is staring right back at him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay yes it's a little late but look at how much you got!!! I think this might be my favorite chapter so far, especially because we got a peak into Nancy and Jonathan's subplot. Please let me know what you think in the comments, they absolutely make my day! 
> 
> Quick note: I'm moving in to my apartment next weekend so there probably won't be an update for two weeks but I don't plan too long. I've already started working on the next chapter.


	11. Chapter Eleven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nostalgia hurts a little more than usual.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoy :) 
> 
> Please feel free to comment and let me know what you think!

“Hello Randy.” Steve says, filling the awkward silence that’s followed Randy’s abrasive greeting. “You shop at the Turning Point often?” It’s a simple question that doesn’t hold any weight; one that doesn’t really invite a conversation between two people that really aren’t friends.

“Heard that you’ve been seeing Billy Hargrove.” Randy says abruptly, not even giving Steve the common courtesy of rallying this conversation of unnecessary small talk. “Is that why I haven’t heard from you these last couple of weeks?”

“Yeah I shop here a lot too.” Steve says, beginning to move away from the records. “I don’t know where you’re getting this information from, but I haven’t been “seeing” Billy Hargrove.” Steve says, eyes focused on the door, looking to make a hasty getaway. “We’ve caught a couple of movies together and that’s it.”

Steve walks out of The Turning Point but can still feel Randy following closely behind. “Not that it’s any of your business, but it has nothing to do with the fact you haven’t heard from me for the last couple of weeks.”

“Bullshit, Harrington.” Randy says, moving in front of Steve. Randy’s always had a couple of inches on Steve but never had it been so apparent. Steve looks up at Randy, waiting for his next move, and Randy stares coldly into Steve’s eyes. “You found somewhere else to score so you’re treating me no different than Weaving treats any of those broads who give him the time of day. Never took you for the type, but hey, guess I should look at the company you keep.”

“Maybe I just didn’t want to be treated like shit anymore.” Steve says, defiantly.“Maybe I was sick of wasting my time with a guy who only thinks with his dick and only calls when he wants his bed warm.” Randy stares hardly at Steve but after a couple of moments, Steve sees Randy’s mouth break into a smirk.

“Then why are you wasting your time with the likes of Billy Hargrove?” Randy asks, a smile on his face and a look in his eyes that’s just begging for Steve to ask what he means. Steve’s tempted, but he knows that what Randy wants, what he _expects,_ from Steve.

“I’ve gotta go, Randy.” Steve says, pushing past Randy, choosing not to entertain the conversation any longer. “Don’t ring my line anytime soon.”

“I won’t have to.” Randy says as Steve continues to walk away. “Hargrove will break your heart, like he does, and you’ll be waiting, longing, for me to come back. You’ll be lonely, and I know how much you love the company.”

——

“I ended things with Randy.” Steve says when Nancy opens the door. She stares at Steve, almost at a loss for words. She pulls Steve into a hug and Steve feels himself release a breath he didn’t know he was holding. She invites him in, not that he would wait for the invitation.

He tells Nancy what happened outside the Turning Point, as she makes him a cup of coffee. He can tell there’s an “I told you so” on the tip of her tongue but she’s given Steve the courtesy of not saying anything. She pushes the cup of coffee in front of him and smiles warmly.

“Proud of you.”

“Thanks, mom.” Steve says, rolling his eyes but both he and Nancy knows there’s no hostility behind his words. She pulls him into another hug and he wraps his arms around her. It feels like the first time in a long while that he’s had a chance to breathe.

——

“It was about damn time, Stevie.” Henry says as he pulls Steve into a half hug; he goes to ruffle his hair but Steve’s sure to put a quick stop to that. They’re standing outside Ace’s and Steve’s been catching Henry up on what happened outside the Turning Point earlier that day.

“Never did like that Erickson fella, and you know me, I” 

“You like _everyone_.” Steve finishes for him.

“And everyone likes me.” Henry says as he winks at one the girls that passes by them. Steve recognizes her as Marcia Kirkpatrick from his Film Through the Ages lecture that he and Henry both share.

Marcia rolls her eyes but both she and Henry know there’s no weight to the action due to the fact she smiles right after. Steve follows the interaction as it plays out and when Marcia’s out of earshot he grabs Henry by the shoulder.

“Really? Marcia Kirkpatrick?” Steve says and Henry shrugs his shoulders. “She’s one degree of separation from a narc, Henry.”

“She’s also extremely hot.” Henry says, whistling out as they move up in the line.

“If she joins us later tonight color me gone.” Steve says and Henry lets out a laugh.

After showing the bouncer their IDs, they make a beeline for the bar and spare no time ordering three shots each. Before Steve’s able to take down the first one, Henry grabs his hand and pushes it away from his mouth.

“But first, a toast,” Henry says as he lifts the shot glass up in the air and Steve rolls his eyes. However, unlike Marcia Kirkpatrick, there’s no smile that follows. “A toast to Steve, for realizing that Randy Erickson is nothing but a dick.”

“Here here.” Steve says, going to drink his shot but is stopped once again by Henry’s hand.

“And also, a toast to me, for being the best friend Steve Harrington has ever had.” Henry says before throwing the shot back and shaking his head. Steve follows his lead and when he’s put the glass back down he sees that Henry has already thrown back the other two.

“I think Nancy might fight you on that.” Steve says, struggling to catch up as the bitter taste proves to be a hinderance as he downs his second shot. Henry hold his hands up, as if he’s surrendering preemptively.

“I’m just being honest.”

“Let’s not forget humble.” 

“Oh Stevie,” Henry says as he leans against the bar, eyeing for tonight’s target. “As if anyone could forget a thing about me.” 

———-

Janet, the bartender, is really….nice. At least that’s how Steve would describe her since she’s been holding a conversation with him, the only bartender he’s ever known to do so. She’s listened to him go on and on about Frank Sinatra’s cover of Falling in Love with Love and even listened to him attempt it for a solid 30 seconds before _he_ realized he’s no Frank Sinatra.

Janet’s really nice.

Steve’s about to strike up another conversation with Janet, the fourth one that night, when someone slides up next to him and says his name. “Harrington, well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.”

Steve blinks two or three times to confirm that his eyes aren’t playing tricks on him because if he’s mistaken, he would almost think that Billy Hargrove is standing in front of him.

“Uh, hey Billy.” Steve says, smiling softly. “Didn’t know I’d find you here.” He feels himself sobering up slightly and he can see Janet eye the two of them out of his peripheral. She sees that someone has taken Steve off her hands and that she can finally tend to other customers.

“Luckerby got a 100 on his economics midterm so I took him out to celebrate.” Billy says, sipping his glass of water. “Lot of good that did me, he’s had his eye on Marcia Kirkpatrick all night, I think he’s gonna try to score.”

“Oh well that will just break Henry’s heart.” Steve says and Billy lets out a laugh; one that sounds like he means it.

“Sounds like she’s got herself a Catch 22. She doesn’t go home with Luckerby, she goes home with Weaving; if she doesn’t go home with Weaving, she goes home with Luckerby.”

“It could be worse.” Steve says.

“How so?”

“She could make the mistake of falling in love with one of them.” Steve says and Billy smiles a certain smile, one that doesn’t really meet his eyes.

“I hope not. She doesn’t seem the foolish type.”

——-

“You wanna smokes?” Billy asks Steve, holding the carton out to him. Steve grabs one and waits for Billy to light it. After making small talk for 30 minutes, they both decided it would be best if they got fresh air, if only just to hear each other speak.

“Thanks.” Steve says, pulling the cigarette away from his mouth after inhaling. “You and Luckerby have made the news yet again I see.” Steve says, using his cigarette to point at the stack of school newspapers next to them. “Don’t worry, your secret’s been safe with me.” Steve says winking at Billy.

“Thanks, but as of recent, it’s all been Luckerby’s doing; I’ve been a bit preoccupied getting read the riot act by my old man every night.” Billy says, taking an extra long drag. Steven wonders if he’s supposed to carry on the conversation; if it’s an invitation. 

“Told him that I might drop accounting as my major, pursue something different.” Billy begins, inviting Steve on his own accord. “He went ape-shit; said that he should have expected it from me since I’m stupid.”

He doesn’t know if it’s the phrase itself or the casualness of the way Billy says it that catches Steve off guard. “Billy,” Steve begins, “You’ve got to know that’s not true.”

“It’s whatever,” Billy says,  “I can’t let things like that get to me anymore, it’s just exhausting that it’s the same old shit.” Billy looks up and down the street before looking at Steve. “Hey, you wanna take a walk?” 

———

“Damn, Veronica Richards?” Billy questions, mentally catching up to the story Steve’s telling him. They’ve been walking down 16th Street and Steve’s been carrying the conversation for the most part; but Billy doesn’t mind, Billy’s at peace with listening.

“ _The_ Veronica Richards.” Steve confirms. “Henry said she start going on and on about her biological clock ticking, the whole nine yards.”

“Damn, Veronica Richards, all show and no go; knew she seemed too good to be true the moment I laid eyes on her.” Billy says as he throws his cigarette butt in the trash can. “Most girls are.”

Steve reminisces on the first time he met Randy; the first time he thought he felt something special. He was at Patsy’s picking up breakfast for Nancy and himself when he tripped over his shoelace walking out the door. He ripped up his pants pretty bad, but Randy, hands filled holding plastic bags filled with bacon and eggs, had saved the day.

He told Steve he should be more careful; pretty face like his shouldn’t be put in harms way and then asked if he wanted to grab breakfast with _him_ at some point. They grabbed breakfast and Steve feltsomething that only Henry could relate to after meeting Veronica Richards. He felt understood.

Steve was over the moon, but Nancy, Nancy didn’t like him the moment she met him.

“You should have let the food hit the ground.” She told him after meeting Randy for the first time.

Steve met up with Randy a couple of times after that, but after catching Randy making out with Lucy McDonald in the back of Ace’s, he realized what the two of them had, and,it wasn’t love. Steve put up with it for months because the company was so nice, he couldn’t stand the thought of letting it go.

“What about you?” Billy asks, pulling Steve out of his head; a floodgate that had opened and reminded him why he was standing in front of Billy Hargrove right now.

“Uh, no, can’t, can’t say I have too many of those stories myself.” Steve says, smiling that same smile that didn’t reach Billy’s eyes. 

God.

He loves the company

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, I'm back! Sorry, I was moving and adjusting to all that comes with that, but I finally got around to working on this chapter and I was so excited to post it for you. We're about to get into more angst riddled writings if you can't tell, but don't worry, I'm a sucker for a happy ending :)


	12. Chapter Twelve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frank Sinatra always bring people closer together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoy :)
> 
> Disclaimer: There's quite a bit of recreational drug use in this chapter, more than before, if that's something you're not comfortable reading just let me know and I can fill you in on what happens in this chapter
> 
> [This](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UJWJVsfoQqw) is the song Steve and Billy sing.

“Where’d you disappear off to last night?” Henry asks Steve as he invites himself into Steve’s apartment. “I went looking for you and it seemed that you pretty much disappeared, as if you were Sigmund Freud himself.”

“It’s _Siegfried and Roy_ , Henry, and they’re a duo.” Steve says, rubbing his temple as he pours himself a cup of coffee. “Sigmund Freud is the wacko we learned about in Psych 101 freshman year.” He turns to grab the creamer and when he turns around, he sees that Henry has already claimed the cup as his own.

“Ah,” Henry exhales after taking an extended sip. “That’s the stuff.” Steve rolls his eyes but proceeds to grab himself another cup from the cabinet, this time grabbing the creamer before he pours so he can keep an eye on it, and well, Henry.

“Apparently Freud isn’t the only wacko I learned about freshman year.” Steve says and Henry remains unfazed as he continues to sip on his black coffee. Steve pours his creamer into his new cup of coffee and grabs a spoon out of the drawer.

“You still haven’t answered my question,” Henry says, “Where did you disappear off to last night? You didn’t do something stupid like meet up with Erickson did you?”

“Oh God no,” Steve says, facing turning sour as if he’s had a sip of the bitter black coffee that’s sitting in Henry’s, formerly his, cup. He’s stirring the spoon in his cup, watching as the creamer dissipates, and makes something that is so bitter become so sweet; comforting, almost.

“Billy was at Ace’s last night.” Steve says, deciding to not dance around the truth. He ignores Henry’s smile as he continues his story. “We made small talk for a little while before getting some air. He wanted to talk and I could tell he wanted someone to listen.” Steve says as he continues to look down at his coffee, refusing to look up at Henry.

“Told him the tragic story of you and Veronica Richards.” Steve says, smiling down into his cup; he’s almost certain Henry’s smiling too. “Dude really felt for you; thought she was too good to be true.”

“You could say that again.” Henry says, letting out a long exhale as if he’s just had a brush with death, and, knowing Henry, he probably thought he had. 

“So yeah, we talked.” Steve says, taking a long awaited sip of his coffee.

Henry doesn’t buy it.

“But then you scored, right?” Henry asks, one eyebrow cocked. Steve stares at Henry, his silence being all the answer he needs. “Damn, you really like this guy.” Henry says, dropping the teasing smile and replacing it with a sympathetic one.

Steve processes what Henry’s saying, acknowledging the element of truth that’s underlying his words; but ultimately, he’s processing the night before. He’s processing the small glimpse he was given into Billy Hargrove; not the Billy Hargrove that’s holding a facade of machismo and charisma, but the Billy Hargrove that’s hurting.

Billy Hargrove is a question that Steve feels like he’s slowly starting to answer.

——-

“I’m sorry; you did what, with who?” Steve says, staring incredulously at Nancy. Nancy’s wiping down the coffee table as if she hasn’t just told Steve about her budding romance with Jonathan.

“Jonathan and I might have admitted our feelings after drinking some celebratory Shirley Temples, I don’t know what part you don’t understand.” Nancy says, pushing by Steve as she throws a soaked paper towel into the trash can. She turns around and sees that Steve is smiling at her. She rolls her eyes, dreading the words that are about to leave his mouth. “What, Steven?” She asks, arms crossing across her chest.

“Now Nance, I know you hate to hear “I told you so”, but”

“But what, Steve?”

“I told you so.” Steve says, and he can tell Nancy’s fighting off a smile of her own. Eventually her shoulders drop and she gives in to the humor of the situation. She starts laughing with Steve and he pulls her into a hug.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” Steve asks after they release from each other’s embrace. Nancy shrugs before responding. 

“You had just told me about Randy Erickson and that was a celebration within itself.” Nancy says and Steve can’t disagree. “Just didn’t seem as important at the time.” Steve smiles softly at Nancy, a smile that reads, ‘it’s important to me’.

Nancy puts on some Doris Day and tells Steve the series of events. While she’s going over the details, Steve finds himself smiling, embracing the current feeling. He’s missed this feeling. It feels like home.

——-

“Dougie said you’re not coming over tonight?” Henry asks Steve, pulling away the book that’s sitting in front of him. “When did you stop being so fun, Stevie?” Henry asks, a frown in the place of his almost permanent smile.

“It’s not that I’m not fun anymore, Henry,” Steve says as he pulls the book back bfront of him. “It’s just that _I_ want to pass Henderson’s midterm.” Steve says as he continues reading over the black and white print in front of him.

“Stevie, you could pass that exam in your sleep.” Henry says as he moves the book once again. Steve sighs and looks up at Henry; he doesn’t know how the librarian hasn’t shoved them out of the library yet. He reaches for the book again but Henry moves it further away.

“Come on,” Henry smiles. “Live a little.”

“You’re saying this like we didn’t jus hit up Ace’s last night.” Steve says. Henry rolls his eyes and lets out an exaggerated sigh.

“You dwell too much on the past, Stevie, we’ve got to live in the present.” Henry says, jumping off of the table. “Look at me, you’ve got me turning into a dove right in front of your very eyes.” Steve stares at Henry, finally breaking eye contact when he rolls his eyes. Henry smiles. He’s won.

“Fine, but we’re waking up bright and early and studying for Henderson’s midterm _together_.”

“There’s the Stevie I know and love.” Henry says as he pulls a cigarette out of his pocket and starts to light it; Steve pulls it from his lips before the flame even has the time to ignite. Henry grabs the cigarette from Steve’s hand and puts it behind his ear. “Dougie’s tonight, 8pm, wear that sweaters that makes you look oh so good.”

———

“So there she is, Stacy Kaminsky, being the absolute babe she is.” Dougie says, holding a joint between his two fingers, eyes trying to focus on Steve. “So I try to start a conversation with her and next thing I know, Lumpy Rutherford is calling me ‘freckles’ and I’m turning beet red in the fact.” Steve is silent, listening along to Dougie’s story but slowly becoming more impatient as he waits to take a hit. “Just broke my heart, Steve.”

“Doug, that’s absolutely tragic, but,” Steve grabs the joint from Dougie’s hand as Dougie continues to blankly stare in to the open space. “That didn’t happen to you; that was an episode of Leave it to Beaver.”

The sound of Orange Colored Sky by Nat King Cole feels the room as Doug processes what Steve’s just told him. “Are you sure?” Doug questions.

“Well for one, we don’t know anyone named ‘Lumpy Rutherford’, thank God,” Steve says after taking a hit, “and two, you don’t have freckles.”

Doug reaches for his face, as if he’ll be able feel the freckles that aren’t there. “Well shit.”Steve’s about to respond when he hears the door to Doug’s apartment open. Henry saunters in, arm around the shoulders of Billy Hargrove. “Gentlemen, the party, officially, has arrived.” Henry says.

“Fuck.” Steve says under his breath. He’s still yet to confront the feelings that he’s inevitably felt since he’s realized he’s got a thing for Billy Hargrove and the last thing he wants to do is confront them when he’s soon to be as high as a kite. He’s decided that Henry’s determined to make his life as difficult as it could possibly be.

“Excuse us for one minute.” Steve says as he grabs Henry’s arm and leads him out ofDoug’s apartment. “What the hell, Henry?” Steve says, letting out a sigh, clearly not overreacting. “Are you determined to make my life as difficult as it could possibly be?”

Henry puts his hands up, preemptively defending himself.“Yes, I know how this looks,” Henry begins. “but, I saw Hargrove _and_ Luckerby when I was walking home from the library and thought I would invite them over for a good time. I didn’t think Billy would be the only one to show up, but Luckerby got in a fight with his broad and couldn’t come.”Henry stares at Steve and Steve can tell he’s being earnest; this isn’t some type of trick.

He internally reminds himself to calm down; he’s gotten more comfortable around Billy and Billy’s gotten more comfortable around him. He lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding and Henry smiles softly at him. “I may be a wise-ass, but I’m not a dick.”

Steve smiles and lets out light laugh because he knows there’s truth to what Henry says. He decides he should embrace the night to come because, well, it’s happening. Henry opens the door to see that Doug is telling Billy the same story he's just told Steve, and they can both tell Billy’s trying to hold back his laughter.

“Can’t believe you started without us, Dougie.” Henry says, putting Billy out of his misery. 

“You said 8 p.m. and it’s now,” Doug turns his watch over. “8:08; you know I’m not a man of waiting, Weaving.” Doug shrugs his shoulders as he passes the rolling paper to Henry; Henry rolls his eyes but takes the paper. He moves to Doug’s kitchen, mumbling to himself and Doug follows him, keen to hear what he’s saying. 

Steve and Billy are left in Doug’s living room and Steve stares down at the joint in his hand before offering it up to Billy with a smile. “Wanna hit?”

Billy smiles at Steve and grabs the joint from his hand before inhaling. He takes a seat next to Steve, passing the join between them as they watch Doug and Henry go back and forth, letting out light laughter occasionally.

“Luckerby’s thinking about changing his major.” Billy says suddenly and Steve’s intrigued. “He hates his major but his girl hates the idea of him getting a degree in Art even more.”

“Shouldn’t he do what makes _him_ happy, not her?” Steve asks, as if it’s obvious. Billy looks at Steve as if he’s the only one who’s thought of the right answer. “Sorry, I don’t mean to be frank, bu-“ 

“You’re right.” Billy cuts him off. “Luckerby, he’s in love, it makes you do foolish things; sometimes you end up sacrificing your own happiness for someone else.” 

Steve thinks over what Billy’s saying, thinks about Randy. He decides to not let those thoughts clutter and engages with Billy, the boy who’s in front of him and hasn’t broken his heart; not yet.

“How’s film theory going? Weaving drones on and on about how much of a drag it is.” Billy asks and Steve’s eyes light up, he’s sure of it. Henry says it’s a total buzzkill to talk about it but Steve hops at the opportunity. He begins to tell Billy about Schreiber’s theory and how he thinks that makes Ingmar Bergman so great. Steve is certain that Billy doesn’t understand what he’s telling him but Billy’s still hanging on to every word.

Eventually, in the midst of their conversation,Doug walks away from Henry and changes the record to Frank Sinatra’s _Sinatra Sings_ before walking back over to Henry. Steve slows down and starts to become more attune to the effects of the marijuana and the songs feels as if it’s been written just for him.

“He’s good.” Billy says, pulling Steve out of the current state he’s in. He looks over at Billy and he’s sure his eyes are bloodshot akin to those of Billy’s. “Frank Sinatra, the guy’s good.” Billy says before singing along with the record. “Falling in love with love is falling for make believe.”

“Falling in love with love is playing the fool.” Steve continues on, smiling as he and Billy continue to sing the song; Henry and Doug’s bickering slowly fading out at Frank Sinatra’s voice overtakes it.

Steve looks into Billy’s eyes as they both sing the final line of the chorus, “I fell in love with love, with love everlasting; but love fell out with me.” They both hold out the end note, eventually becoming caricatures of thefamed crooner and they trail off the note with rambunctious laughter.

He can be mad at Henry some other time.

——-

“You guys sure you’re okay to get home?” Doug asks Steve and Billy as they begin to put on their jackets.

“If we weren’t, would you be able to do anything about it?” Steve asks and Doug looks as if he’s been asked where yesterday went. “We’ll be okay, Doug.” He says, putting an arm on Doug’s shoulder, looking over him to see Henry passed out on his couch. “Have Henry stop by my place when he wakes up in the morning. I know he’ll want breakfast and more importantly, someone to buy it for him. ” 

They bid their final goodbyes, then Steve and Billy are making their way to the transit; the effects of the joint fading, and they’re both much more clear headed. Billy’s still singing remnants of a Sinatra song and Steve’s fighting off the urge to shake himself to see if he’s actually dreaming.

“Thanks, Harrington.” Billy says, pulling Steve back to reality.

“What for?”

“For tonight, for last night, for the night in Central Park.” Billy lists. “For everything. For so long, I’ve wanted to speak, but you seemed to be the only one who wanted to listen.” Billy says, smiling softly at Steve and Steve can’t help but stare fondly back at him.

“You know, there’s something else I learned about Schreiber’s theory.” Steve says, recalling their earlier conversation. 

“What’s that?” 

“Everyone has a voice; some just need the right person to listen.” Steve says and Billy smiles at him; this one reaches his eyes. They’re staring at each other, the sound of traffic on city streets acting as a natural soundtrack.

Suddenly, Steve pulls Billy closer, their lips touching and Billy’s leaning into it. For a couple of seconds, the vast city feels as if it’s just them and it’s quiet; it’s peace. They’re brought back to Earth and Billy pulls away from Steve.

They’re both staring at each other, wide-eyed and speechless. Billy looks as if he’s about to say something but can’t decide on what. Steve watches as Billy walks away, knowing he shouldn’t follow after him.

“Fuck.” Steve says under his breath. “Fuck.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it's been a minute but I've come back with over 2500 words! We're finally starting to get into some plot development, hope you're enjoying it so far! Also if you're a film major and you're cringing through all of this, I'm sooooorry; I'm trying to be poetic but I've only taken one screenwriting class and you can probably tell hahah. 
> 
> Feel free to follow me on [tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/cavlarycvptain)


	13. Chapter Thirteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoy :) 
> 
> Please leave a comment and let me know what you think :)

“Damn Stevie,” Henry says after putting a liberal amount of ketchup on his plate next to his hash browns. He’s been watching Steve stew in his own sorrow for the last 20 minutes and for the first time, he’s at a loss as to what he should say.“You really just went for it, huh?”

“I know,” Steve says, his head in his hands, fingers carding through his hair as his breakfast slowly becomes cold in front of him. “Fuck.” He says under his breath; it seems to be the only word he’s been able to filter out for the last 12 hours.

“It’s going to be okay, Stevie.” Henry says, doing his best to comfort Steve. Steve lifts his head out of his hands and looks at Henry, a look that says, ‘Really Henry?”.

“Really, Henry?” Steve asks. Henry gives him a sympathetic look and Steve lets out a sigh. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be taking this out on you.” He picks his fork up and being pushing his food around despite knowing his appetite is one of the many losses he’s faced recently.

He lets out another sigh and bites off a piece of his bacon when he suddenly sees Henry put a $10 bill on the table. Steve looks up at Henry, perplexed and Henry smiles at him before rolling his eyes.

“I may be a dick, but I’m not stupid.” Henry says before grabbing his jacket and starts walking towards the door. Steve grabs his coat and hustles to catch up to Henry. They both begin walking down S Street, when Steve stops Henry, expecting an answer. Henry looks at Steve and smiles, “I’ve have to be a pretty shit friend to be your source of comfort and _also_ make you pay for your food.”

“Thanks, Henry.” Steve says smiling and while under any other circumstance it would be facetious, Henry knows it’s genuine. Henry wraps an arm around Steve’s shoulder and they continue walking, embracing a silence that’s not awkward, but comfortable.

Comfortable silence is slowly, but surely, taken over by an overwhelming sense of dread; Steve’s lost inside his own head, and dread is slowly slipping to regret and he finds himself exhausted. He’s so lost in a cocktail of his own tumultuous thoughts he doesn’t realize Henry’s went from beside him to in front of him. Steve can’t deny the fact he’s being a downer and Henry probably can’t stand it.

“I can’t stand it.” Henry says, arms crossed across his chest. “You and me, we’re going to Ace’s and we’re getting amped up.” Steve smiles at Henry in a weary fashion. Henry’s shoulders deflate when Steve doesn’t say anything back, but his eyes remain bright. “C’mon Stevie, you know I’m not good with words; a good time and cheap booze is all I’ve got to offer.”

“No, Henry, I know,” Steve begins. “I, I just don’t think I’m up to going out and having a ‘good time’. I’ll just bring the mood down and ruin your fun.” Steve says, shrugging his shoulders and then checking his watch. “Look, I gotta get to Nancy’s, I told her I would come by around noon but thanks again for breakfast.”

“Anytime, Stevie and if you do decide to take a break from wallowing in your own pity,” Henry says, smiling. “I’ll be at Ace’s at 10.” Henry says, winking at Steve before he continues walking. “I know things are around the bend right now, but it’s gonna be cool. You’re a catch, Stevie, Hargrove would have to be bent not to see that.”

“Thanks, Henry.” Steve calls after him. Henry doesn’t turn around as he ends the conversation.

“Ace’s at 10, I’ll buy you a brew.”

——

“I didn’t think he was that cute to begin with.” Nancy says as Steve’s shuffling through the vinyl records sitting next to Nancy’s record player. He’s shuffled through the records two or three times now but it’s something that allows him to not look at Nancy while he recounts what happened the night before.

“Nancy you’ve never even seen the guy.” Steve says, eventually picking a Dion record. ‘Somebody Nobody Wants’ begins to fill the air and under any other circumstance, Steve would laugh at the ill-fated coincidence.

“I don’t need to,” Nancy continues. “I’m just basing it off every other guy you’ve dated.” Nancy says and she has to dodge the throw pillow that Steve’s thrown at her. “I’m sorry, but Randy Erickson isn’t the beginning of a great track record.” Nancy says and as much as Steve fights it off, he lets out a small smile. Nancy always said a person’s personality can make them uglier than their physical looks ever could.

“What can I say?” Steve asks. “He was a greaser; you know I’m a sucker for a leather jacket.”

“He was _greasy_.” Nancy says. “His leather jacket was too small on him anyways.” Nancy says taking another sip of her Cola. She sees that Steve’s about to argue with her but she stops him before the words have the chance to leave his mouth. “You’re so full of it, Steve; you _know_ that jacket was too small for him.”

“Yeah, but it fit me perfectly.” Steve says, but it’s said in a way that makes it seem like an afterthought. Steve shakes his head, as if he’s ridding himself of the thoughts and moves to lie next to Nancy on her couch. He lays his head on Nancy’s thighs and she delicately runs her dainty fingers through his hair.

“Then there was Stuart Kinsley.” Nancy continues and Steve looks up at her, confused; because what was wrong with Stuart?

“What was wrong with Stuart?” Steve asks and Nancy rolls her eyes as if the answer is obvious.

“He smelled like a head shop.” Nancy says and well, Steve can’t deny that.

“So does Dougie, but you’re friends with him.” Steve retorts and Nancy shakes her head.

“No Steve, _you’re_ friends with Dougie, I’m just cordial.” Nancy says and Steve can’t help but laugh at that. “You sure know how to pick ‘em, Steve.”

“Look, not all of my friends are flakes.” Steve says, defending himself. Nancy cocks an eyebrow and looks down at Steve. “Okay, most of my friends are flakes, but then there’s you.” Steve says and Nancy relaxes and smiles softly at Steve. “You’re my best friend, you know that, Nance?”

“Yeah, Steve.” Nancy answers. “I know.”

——

“I should just turn around now.” Steve says to himself as he continues walking toward Ace’s. As it’s later in the year, the air has gotten harsher and Steve finds himself pulling up the collar of his jacket that isn’t doing great, but it’s doing it’s best.

Henry was right; and that’s not common. While it was easier for Steve to sit at home and watching the same reruns of the Dick Van Dyke Show while he wallowed in self pity, he knew that wouldn’t get him anywhere and he probably shouldn’t be alone. So Steve swallowed his pride, put on a sweater to cover his ketchup stained t-shirt and decided that Ace’s might just be the best option for the night.

He shows his ID to the bouncer who barely does a once over and makes his way to the bar, knowing that the only thing that will warm him up quicker than the heater in the bar is the alcohol on the shelf.

“Yeah uh, old fashioned.” Steve says to the bartender who’s currently bent over, not looking at him, and clearing the lines. After realizing the bartender hasn’t made any movement to make his drink, Steve tries again. “Hey, uh, an ol-”

“Old fashioned, yeah, I heard you.” The bartender says, as he turns around. Steve finally sees the face of the bartender and he would drop his jaw if it wasn’t such a cliché

“Harrington, can’t believe your hair has gotten even bigger since I last saw you.” The bartender says and Steve laughs.

“Hopper, uh, hi, it’s great to see you.” Steve says. “Didn’t think you would be back after you just up and left.” Steve smiles at Hopper and Hopper raises up one side of his mouth, the closest thing Steve has ever gotten to a smile.

Jim Hopper was the resident bartender of Ace’s before he left out of nowhere a year and a half earlier. Steve didn’t like Hopper at first, but that might have been due to the fact Hopper refused to serve him when Steve was still 20 even though the fake ID worked on the bouncer. “Word of advice, kid?” Hopper had told him. “Don’t wear your letterman jacket with the year you graduated high school on it, dead giveaway.”

A month later, the day Steve turned 21, he showed up to the bar, sans his letterman and Hopper made him an old fashioned, free of charge. “This one’s on me.” Hopper told him. “No one ever takes my advice.” After that, Hopper became a bit of a confidant and listened to Steve ramble on about university, Stuart Kinsley and how much he just couldn’t stand Elvis.

Until one day, he wasn’t tending the bar. Susan, the new hire, had told Steve that Hopper left for Chicago and she didn’t know when he would be back; told her to tell Steve not to wait up. Steve looks over Hopper now, wondering if he’s able to dissect what’s happened in the past year and a half. He doesn’t notice much different about him except the tan line of where his wedding band used to rest.

Hopper sees Steve make eye contact with his fourth finger and proactively decides to change the subject. “Your partner in crime has been here, wreaking havoc as he usually does.” Hopper says, pulling Steve out of a state of nostalgia. Hopper gestures behind Steve and Steve sees that Henry is resting his upper body on one of the hi-top tables, looking lost in the story the girl in front of him is telling; however, anyone who knows Henry knows that it’s the brew in him.

“Came in, noticed I was bartending and ordered a round for everyone to celebrate that I was back.” Hopper says. “Didn’t realize everyone meant him.” Henry eventually looks over and sees Steve sitting at the bar. His eyes widen, followed by his smile and he saunters his way over to Steve, paying no attention to the girl that had previously caught his eye.

“Stevie, you made it.” Henry says, pulling Steve into a hug like he hasn’t seen him in a year. “Can you believe Hopper’s here?” He says, pulling away from him and looking at Hopper. “Promise us you’ll never leave like that again, Hoppy.” Henry slurs and Steve can tell Henry is very drunk if he’s pulling out nicknames for Hopper.

“For you Weaving?” Hopper entertains. “I promise to be gone twice as long.” Hopper says and Steve smiles at him and looks at Henry, who clearly hasn’t put together what Hopper’s just said. Weaving just smiles at Hopper before he’s pulled away from the girl he was just listening to just he can listen to her again.

Steve looks over at Hopper and sees Hopper shaking his head, but genuinely smiling. “Something’s never change do they Harrington?” Hopper asks. “That reminds me, you asked for an old fashioned.”

——-

Steve’s sitting at the bar, nursing his old fashioned and his eyes are darting across the room, deciding if he wants to make his escape. Whether the escape is the door or the boy leaning next to the jukebox, he hasn’t decided yet.

Hopper left to go break up a fight that was happening in the bathroom and Henry left after asking the girl if she wanted to finish telling her story at his place. Now Steve’s back to where he started, and what tried to avoid; a night of being alone. He’s about to make a beeline towards the guy leaning against the jukebox when he sees him.

Billy.

However, it’s not Billy; it’s Billy and a girl. Steve can’t tell who she is, but based on how Billy’s staring at her, he knows that Billy’s interested in what she has to say. Steve knows that he shouldn’t, but he can’t help but stare at them both. Suddenly, almost like clockwork, as Billy would say, he leans down and whispers something in her ear. She eagerly nods and turns toward the door.

His eyes follows them as she grabs Billy’s hand and leads them out of the bar; Billy doesn’t hesitate to follow her. As they walk out of Ace’s, Billy turns his head and his eyes linger on Steve for a second that feels too long. Billy turns back around and is gone before Steve has time to blink. Steve’s eyes stay focused on the doorway long after Billy and the girl have left.

He wonders if he noticed Steve from the moment he walked in, if he noticed him staring at him before he made the decision to go home with the girl; if he noticed him at all and wasn’t just blankly staring into what might have been.

Steve lets out a sigh before grabbing his jacket and approaching the guy at the jukebox.

And just like that, it feels like they’re strangers again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I don't know if this is early or late, but all that matters is that it's here! Sorry this took so long, time really got away from me, but hopefully the last few chapters won't take nearly as long to post. I know things seem rocky right now, but just give it some time :) 
> 
> Feel free to follow me on [tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/cavlarycvptain)


	14. Chapter Fourteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So! As I've said before; I'm a visual person and there's a minor character that has a pretty big appearance in this chapter so you can picture Luckerby being played by Noel Fisher
> 
>    
> 

Steve pulls his jacket closer to his body, embracing the little bit of warmth he can muster in the New York City cold. He stands under the street sign that’s on the corner of 126th and Old Broadway, and runs his fingers through his hair while desperately fishing around his jacket pocket for a cigarette. His cigarette hangs from his lips, like an unspoken word, as he searches his pockets for a lighter.

Steve begins to curse under his breath as he starts to realize he left it at Jack’s, no Jeremy’s, no Jeffery’s apartment this morning. “Need a light?” Steve hears from a voice, followed by footsteps getting closer. Steve looks over and sees Luckerby pulling a lighter out of his pocket.

“Uh, yeah, thanks.” Steve says, using his tongue to push out the cigarette. Luckerby holds the lighter up to the butt and Steve feels a creeping sense of tension. Luckerby pulls the lighter away and looks at Steve, as if he’s waiting for something.

“You’re not gonna offer a guy a cancer stick after he gave you a light?” Luckerby says. Steve pulls out his cigarette carton and holds it out to Luckerby.

“Thanks.” Luckerby says before lighting the end of it. He and Steve sit in an uncomfortable silence before Luckerby exhales and says, “Harrington, right?” Steve blinks a couple of times, processing Luckerby’s question before answering.

“Uh yeah,” Steve says and there’s a silence that follows that asks an obvious question. Luckerby notices Steve’s continued gaze before rolling his eyes and taking the cigarette out of his mouth.

“The hair.” Luckerby says, miming a pompadour with his hand; the cigarette hanging between his fingers. “Hargrove always said it was totally out of this world.” He brings the cigarette to his lips and inhales. “Hargrove says a lot of stuff.” It’s then that Steve notices the flakes of red and orange that are on Luckerby’s hand.

“Your work is good,” Steve says, answering a question that hasn’t been asked. “and your secret is safe with me.” Luckerby raises his eyebrows, but almost as if it’s disingenuous dismay; as if he was expecting Steve to stay true to his word. He lets out a sigh and leans against the brick wall behind him.

“Thanks.” He says before taking another drag of his cigarette. “Just ended things with a broad who doesn’t seem to think so. Getting dumped hurts like a friggin’ bitch though, not gonna lie.”

“Sorry man,” Steve says, sympathetically, but distantly. He dwells on what Luckerby just said; he met Amy last fall semester in US History and he’s known that Luckerby and Amy have been together for just as long. They’ve been together that long and now her name has been resorted to ‘broad’. “Those are never easy.”

“Yeah, oh well, it was gonna happen anyways.” Luckerby says He shoves his hands in his pockets and looks down the street for his bus.

“Oh yeah?” Steve asks, wondering if he’s overstepping any silenced boundaries; he realizes he hasn’t when he sees Luckerby nod as he leans back off of the street.

“Neither of us never knew what the other one wanted.” He says, taking another drag. “She wanted someone who could make sure she could buy every little dress under the sun; I wanted someone who knew there was more to life than that. I’m starting to think she never actually looked at any of my paintings.”

“Damn, sorry man,” Steve parrots his earlier words but the delivery is drowning in sincerity. “No one deserves that.”

“Yeah,” Luckerby says as he bends down and rubs the butt of his cigarette out on the sidewalk; tucking the rest it behind his ear. “She might have been and all show and no go, but god, I loved her.” Luckerby’s eyes start to water in the corners and he rubs it away. “God I’m such a bitch, sorry.”

“No need to apologize, man.” Steve says putting a comforting but firm grip on Luckerby’s shoulder. Luckerby smiles at Steve then notices his bus is pulling up.

“Hargrove always said that you were a good listener; maybe that’s what I should have wanted this whole time.” Luckerby says before walking up to the bus. “Catch ya later, Harrington.” Steve waves his goodbye and Luckerby’s gone.

Steve thinks about what Luckerby just said, ‘Neither of us knew what the other one wanted.’ He thinks about Veronica and Henry, he thinks about Luckerby and Amy, he thinks about him and Randy. No one ever knew what the other one wanted and all it did was end in inevitable heartbreak for both people.

He thinks about Nancy and Jonathan. Jonathan knows that Nancy wants to be a journalist, he knows that she wants to be taken seriously and not only that but he supports it. He thinks about how it’s the happiest he’s seen Nancy in years; about how happy she is to find someone who wants the same thing as her.

He thinks about him and Billy. Did Steve want something that was never tangible? Maybe Billy was right, love makes a person do foolish things.

——-

“Do you ever worry about Stevie?” Henry asks Nancy as he holds the door open for her. He follows after her, both looking for an open table they can sit at. They end up sandwiched between the American Literature and the Western Fiction section; notebooks, pencils and journals taking their place in the open area next to them.

“All the time.” Nancy says after both she and Henry are comfortable; well, as comfortable as someone can be knowing they have a finance final in 26 hours. Henry looks at Nancy, one eyebrow cocked up.

“All time time?” Henry questions. Nancy looks at Henry, smirking.

“Of course, he hangs out with the likes of you.” Nancy says, laughing when Henry tosses a pencil at her that she then subsequently dodges.

“I’m serious, Nance.” Henry says and Nancy’s smile softens.

“I mean, I do, but I think you worry about anyone you care about. Why? Should I be more worried than normal?” Nancy asks, eyes widening just slightly. Henry shakes his head, non-verbally defusing the situation before Nancy’s anxiety has the chance to spike.

“No, it’s just the Hargrove situation; it’s a bad scene. More than usual” Henry says and Nancy nods in understanding. “You don’t think he’d go back to, like, Erickson, do you?”

“Steve’s dumb, but he’s not stupid.” Nancy says, sternly. She harbors slight resentment towards Henry for even putting the thought out there.

“No” Henry says, drawing out the ‘O’, as if there’s a ‘but’ coming, “but he’s hurting.” He says and even Nancy can’t deny that. “I don’t know how many nights at Ace’s is going to be the right fix for his broken heart.” Henry says, frowning in such an exaggerated way it’s almost comedic.

“Well of course not, he’s not you.” Nancy says, arms folding across her chest.

“The guy could only hope.” Henry says, mirroring Nancy’s posture, except he’s smirking. This time it’s him that dodges the pencil being thrown. He laughs at her and she laughs with him, both of them taking comfort in the suspension of reality.

“Back to back nights at Ace’s might fix a broken heart but it does absolutely nothing for your liver, or your stomach the next day.” Nancy says, shuffling through her backpack.

“They don’t call me ‘Hold ‘Em Down Henry’ for nothing.” Henry refutes.

“No one calls you that.” Nancy quickly responds.

“I do.” Henry says under his breath.

“Come on, we’ve got a final to study for.” She says, opening up her book, Henry following right after. Nancy’s pulling out flashcards when he looks back up at her.

“You think he’s gonna be okay? Not gonna do anything stupid?” Henry asks her again.

“No; he’s not a fool, he’s just in love."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I took a quiz on tumblr that was titled something like, 'what kind of writer are you?' and my answer was "fic writer on hiatus due to Going Through It but has been going through it for quite some time" and wow I felt attacked! That said, sorry I've been gone so long, the end of the year was ROUGH but we made it through and I'm back! 
> 
> I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter; I wrote it about three or four different times because I didn't like the direction I was going but I really enjoyed how this came out. It's basically just a filler until Steve and Billy finally confront each other.
> 
> Feel free to follow my [tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/cavlarycvptain)! I post updates and new stories there! I promise not be good for like a month and a half this time hahah.


End file.
